The Edge Of Reason
by Kibble Beast
Summary: Are your subordinates acting up? Sometimes speeches just aren’t enough, eh? Fed up of his Autobots -cough, and Decepticons, cough- clashing with each other, Optimus decides he has to save his sanity and puts them into teams to improve their relationships.
1. Chapter 1

A/N:

Right-ho. Let's get down to the nitty-gritty. :D

**Disclaimer**: Because OBVIOUSLY you thought I owned Transformers and all. I don't. ): Nor am I making any money. Darn; I'll have to work on that.

_//This indicates comm. speak!//_ Hoorah!

_Okeeeydooookey. _Some other things:

This is the movie-verse with a couple of **tweaks**. Obviously everybody's interpretation is different, which is brilliant. :D I think some of mine I should mention are:

Arcee is just one femme, not three, because I can't handle three of her. (she'd drive me _insane_) For anyone interested, I imagine her more like the 07 version, which can be found here: tfwiki. net / w2 / images 2 / 4 / 4d / Arceemovie. jpg [just remove the spaces. :)]

Oh yes. Jetfire doesn't suit my purposes as a cranky and **awesome** old dude, (heheh) so he's an **awesome** young scientist. Think of Stormbringer Jetfire and you're nearing the mark. :D

And Jazz is alive. It doesn't suit him, being dead. (Something to do with Ratchet's genius talent, or Allspark fragment or maybe even the Matrix. Who knows. The fragment worked for Megatron.)

I can't think of anything else right nooow... but if you see anything at all that doesn't make sense, PM or review me. I won't bite hard.

Away! xD

* * *

It never ended. Optimus Prime scowled at the mountain of reports on his desk.

It wasn't that he resented their presence- on the contrary- but the new Autobot arrivals to Earth had induced a great deal of paperwork. A sudden thought struck him. Did Megatron do paperwork?

He tried to imagine the tyrant busily making notes, or studiously copying up hefty reports. Optimus wondered if Decepticons even did anything of the sort- ah, he could see Soundwave compiling stupidly large files about nothing. It wasn't as if he had a social life.

Optimus frowned, trying to imagine the Communications Officer having _fun_. ...Wait a second. This- however entertaining- wasn't getting him any work done. Shaking his helm, he turned back to his work.

Two kliks later, he was considering off-loading the mundane duty onto his subordinates when the thunderous growling of two engines sped past (and by the sound of it) ignoring the set corridor speed limit by a large degree.

Bracing himself, Optimus rubbed the bridge of his nasal plating.

Four astro-seconds later, a siren snarled into life. "**TWINS**!"

On this occasion, Optimus knew exactly which set of twins were offending: even if Skids and Mudflap weren't already on a mission, only one set of twins could inspire such sweet tones to emerge from Prowl's vocal processor.

The rule-upholding Autobot took his duties very seriously as second in command. _Very seriously._ This could be confirmed by any Autobot.

Optimus sighed and turned his attentions back to his work. A brave endeavour, but futile nonetheless.

He focused on the report. "_The altercation with Decepticon forces on May 26th __could hav-_"

BOOM.

The explosion shook the base.

Optimus twitched, but continued. "-_could have been substantially less damaging if-_"

A sudden shrieking burst out from somewhere in the base.

"_-if the civilians had been fully-"_

Another crash, closer this time. Optimus closed his optics for a second, clutching the data-pad forcefully. Oddly, there was silence. His antennae strained to pick up any offensive sounds, but none came forth.

He recommenced reading. "_-fully evacuated. NEST cannot operate at their optimum capacity if-"_

**BOOOOM.**

Optimus shook his helm vigorously, and stared ferociously at the data-pad as if this would drown out the commotion.

"_-if the civilians had been-_" Hang on, he'd read that bit. He scanned the passage. Ah, there he was.

The red and blue mech thought for a second, then muted his audio processors and felt an internal spasm of glee when there was, once again, beautiful silence.

He squirmed happily in his chair and settled in a comfier position before tackling the pad again.

"_NEST cannot operate... if there is a possibility of loss of innocent life. Therefore, th-_"

The door exploded.

Scorched by seemingly random searing heat and blinding light, and forcefully propelled away by the blast, Optimus jerked backwards off of his chair with a strangled cry.

Lying for a moment in a happy daze where the universe was perfect, he suddenly saw a pink blur and a black behemoth tower over him.

He squinted, and Arcee and Ironhide came into focus. The femme paced, mouthing something, and thrusting her hands around impatiently.

_Why is she mouthing? Just to make life harder than it already was?_

Ironhide scowled, and he opened his mouth to disagree silently.

Optimus frowned and heaved himself up onto his aft whilst rubbing his helm, wondering if he'd damaged himself. A systems check revealed nothing disturbing.

Wincing, he touched his very sensitive and therefore now very tender antenna, and remembered he had muted the world.

Instantly, welcoming his return to Base Insanity, Arcee's rant deafened him.

"-and THEN he had the cheek to say that- ARE YOU LISTENING?!"

Ironhide helped his somewhat stunned-looking commander to his feet. "Optimus...? Are you alright? Did we startle you?"

Optimus shot him a withering look. "No, Ironhide. The door is in place just for you, so you can simply blow it up when it takes your fancy."

"I didn't," Ironhide pouted.

"What...?"

"I didn't blow it up. She did." Ironhide's pout deepened as he pointed at the accused femme.

Optimus knew Ironhide wouldn't lie about something as serious as explosions. His processor groaned as he turned to Arcee. "Well?"

"That rust encrus-"

"Please, Arcee, just the problem. I can't take much more."

The motorcycle pouted. Her rant was greatly reduced now, and, she felt, was therefore going to make far less of an impact. Nevertheless, out it came.

"He. Is. Sexist," she hissed, each word punctuated by a stamp of a foot and both optics narrowing.

She looked rather deranged.

Sighing internally- this was _so_ hard to resolve without offending both parties- Optimus turned to Ironhide.

"I only said-"

"ONLY!? You-"

"Arcee! 'hide, continue." Optimus glared meaningfully at the femme.

"I merely commented during a battle simulation on Arcee's position on the field. I thought she should be further back."

He paused.

"...and!" Arcee snarled.

"...because she wouldn't be able to take what a mech could," Ironhide concluded.

Seeing the femme bristle, Optimus held up a hand, determined not to let this one drag on. "Ironhide, you know Arcee is a capable warrior."

"Yes, but-"

"Arcee, please stop taking offence at every tiny remark vaguely relating to gender. Last week, the whole colour thing was blown completely out of proportion. And your argument held no weight at all, mostly because of the fact you actually _are _pink. We really need to-"

He looked up- an ominous thud had resounded from the room above. Ironhide frowned. The ceiling remained looking innocuous.

Optimus calculated which room was above him whilst Arcee brushed an imaginary speck of dust off of her armour. "The labs are up there, right?"

"I believe so." Optimus turned back to the two Autobots. "At times like these, we must pull together. We can't afford to-"

The ceiling cracked and shouts came from above, followed by a large bang.

Optimus dived under his desk as a figure smashed through into his room, crashing to the floor with a yelp.

Ironhide's cannons could be heard spinning excitedly though the chaos.

The figure coughed, then clambered to its feet hurriedly. "Whoops. I guess Wheeljack added a little too much...oh!" Prime had emerged from underneath his desk. "Optimus, sir, I'm so sorry!"

Jetfire did his best to look apologetic, but Optimus could tell that he was nearly bursting with _discovery_.

"Jetfire. I hope there is a reason-"

"Yes, sir!" The scientist beamed, needing no prompting. "I think Wheeljack and I have just discovered a chemical combination that could cripple almost any type of material when set alight, and-"

"Primus," Ironhide muttered with a scowl, bored and feeling hostile already. Any threat to his cannons was not taken lightly. And something that could cripple any material sounded like a threat.

And besides, who needed this chemical combination to do the job that his cannons could already do?

Ironhide looked over his cannons with a proud, fatherly smile.

Optimus watched all this with mild concern. He'd known Ironhide long enough to know that his friend was being broody.

//_Ironhide. Jetfire is not threatening you and yours_.//

Ironhide narrowed his optics. //_Scientists are sneaky. All that research slag. If he tries to come near my cannons, for any reason... maybe even making upgrade excuses, I'm not responsible for my actions. My babies don't need no fragging upgrades._//

"You couldn't have experimented...uh, in a safer environment?" Arcee was remarking pointedly, eyeing the ruined ceiling.

"Well... Wheeljack thought-"

"Who in their right mind listens to that fool?"

Wheeljack's head poked through the hole. "Apologies."

Prime pointed at the head menacingly, but words failed him. "You... I'll deal with you later. Get to the Med-Bay."

The engineer laughed. "Why?"

Optimus leant down and picked up an arm, handing it up to the mech silently.

"Oh! Er, sorry."

"This is the..." Prime counted up Wheeljack's Med-Bay visits. "...The sixteenth time this week! Pit; your punishment is facing Ratchet, so wipe that grin off of your faceplates."

Jetfire frowned at Ironhide. "Why are you in here?"

"Blame _her_," Ironhide scowled.

"You started it," she retorted.

"So mature, _femme_." He looked at Jetfire and rolled his optics.

Arcee wasn't having this. "You starting that again?"

"What, _femme_?"

"Stop calling me femme!" She screeched.

"Meh mehmeh meh MEHHHHH!" Ironhide mocked.

Arcee twitched. "Jetfire-"

"Woah. Don't bring me into this."

Ironhide nodded approvingly. "No-one's going to listen to you harp on, _femme_. You just have to accept that you're not as tough as us."

Arcee's fingers spasmed, more than willing to shoot Ironhide into oblivion. "Jetfire, c'mon. Help me out here, would ya?"

The huge mech shifted uncomfortably, shuffling his feet. "Well... you do have less armour, which means you can't take as many hits as someone as heavily armoured as Ironhide... and-"

"If you _move_ fast enough, you don't get hit. If you're not _ancient_, you can dodge fire. If-" Arcee's optics narrowed. "You just took his side. You're as bad as the res-"

Jetfire whimpered, stepping backwards. "No, nononono."

"Jet, stop being a wuss!" Ironhide shoved him roughly just as Optimus turned around.

"Ironhide! BRIG!"

"Whaa?"

Arcee grinned; life finally going her way. "Optimus, Jetfire jus-"

"Arcee! BRIG!"

"You can't be-!"

"Jetfire! You've blown a HOLE through my ceiling! BRIG!"

The giant Autobot sighed. "Yes, sir."

They turned to leave.

"Yes! That's right! I'd ask you to use the door, but I'm afraid I don't have one! So you'll have to leave through the hole! Or why don't you exit through the ceiling?! ARGGH! I can't take anymore!" Their commander shrieked, waving his long arms frantically.

The delinquent Autobots sped up, hurrying down the corridor, but Optimus could still be heard getting more and more hysterical. "I'll bet Megatron doesn't have these problems! Pit, I bet Megatron doesn't do paperwork! SO WHY SHOULD I?"


	2. Chapter 2

First up: Thanks so much for your reviews, kind people! :D They made me smile, so please keep them coming; they are uber-appreciated!

A couple more things I might need to mention.

ATTENTION!

This is a useless disclaimer, telling you that I don't own Transformers. If I did, I would be:

1) very rich.

2) a complete genius

3) making sure there were fantastic moments that would ensure a boost in the viewing figures of teenage girls.

(_imagines_)

Hehheh.

Also, my characters are very extreme: I hope this serves for a chuckle, or at the very least some twitching lips. I warn you now, they may therefore seem a bit OOC. Please bear with me.

Oooh, and one more thing. I wrote quite a lot of this fic on holiday, so I know that I've already included some stupid one-liners, from either films, books, t.v programs, etc.

These brilliant moments are not mine, and I can take no credit for them. They are starred with this odd thingy : * You can probably spot them anyway because they seem a tad random.

Audience interaction time! If you actually do know of their origin, mention it in the review... and well done you if you're right. That rhymes. How **cool**.

You can have also have a virtual high-five. I'm feeling very generous.

So, here it comes. Enjoy!

* * *

There was a moment of silence when they had gone. Optimus stood for a moment, antenna twitching, before picking up his seemingly indestructible data-pad from the floor, brushing rubble, soot, and Primus-knows-what off of it. He stepped towards his desk and-

High performance engines roared past his hole as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe proceeded on their second lap of the base.

Optimus stamped to the hole moodily, data-pad in hand. He stepped out into the corridor to catch sight of them- when Prowl skidded around the corner, nearly crashing into the wall. He fortunately retained control and accelerated by Optimus.

"WRETCHES!" Prowl roared.

Optimus' optic twitched. He looked to his pad for inspiration, but found it clenched so firmly in his hand it had cracked.

He sighed deeply. The twins must have done something spectacularly idiotic for Prowl to actually be engaging in a high speed chase _and_ shouting such un-Prowlish obscenities.

"Stressed, Optimus?" asked a jovial voice.

"Not now, Jazz."

"C'monnn! You can talk t'me!" The small mech bounced towards him, adopting a different accent. "It is considered rather healthy for one to share one's plights."

Feeling his mouth twitch unwillingly in a smile, Optimus considered it. It couldn't hurt. It might be good. Prime flung an arm out, nearly decapitating Jazz in the process. "This base... it's driving me insane!"

Jazz glanced down the corridor. "Y'mean the twins and Prowlie? Ah, they've always been at it."

Optimus looked down at his Head of Special Operations reproachfully. "You know Prowl doesn't like to be called Prowlie."

"How d'you know?" Jazz winked.

"He's told you. _Countless times._"

Jazz beamed, as if this confirmed something. "Secretly he loves it."

Optimus sighed and turned away. "Sorry, Jazz. No time for therapy today. I have an appointment to keep at the medbay."

"Awh, c'mon, Prime; things aren't that bad! Just a lil' boredom, is all! Y'know what it's like when you wanna earn your stripes. Or, uh, flames." He glanced at Optimus' decals as this was added. "There's just so many hot-blooded young mechs that've come to Earth."

"Careful. If Arcee hears you, she'll have you for sexism."

"Oh, Primus!" Jazz's helm darted about, checking for the danger as he sneaked behind Optimus for protection.

"Don't worry. She should be in the brig by now. "

"Good, good," Jazz remarked automatically. "You're off to the medbay? You may want t'prepare yourself, because I think Hot Rod and Bumblebee are in there."

Optimus frowned at this obtuse statement. "...How did their mission go?"

Jazz froze for a second, then spoke unconvincingly. "I don't knoooow. You'd have to ask them."

Optimus looked at him. "You sent them, didn't you?"

"Yes," The silver mech admitted.

"So they get debriefed... by you."

"Yeeeas."

"...So?"

Jazz scratched his helm. "Aaah, well- _itwasacompletedisaster_."

"What?" Optimus stopped walking.

Jazz nodded at the medbay. "They're in there...good luck. I've got a scheme about to blossom."

Optimus frowned and looked into the room. Glancing back, he saw that Jazz had mysteriously disappeared.

Shaking his helm, he entered.

"YOU!" howled his irate CMO, diving towards him. "I hope you don't need repairing!"

Optimus eyed Ratchet carefully, judging his safety. The CMO was wielding a frightening looking instrument. "No, Ratchet. I was just here to talk to Wheeljack."

"He's THERE!" Ratchet screeched, gesturing wildly.

"Primus, Ratchet. I thought only Starscream could reach those decibels," a calm voice commented from within a room of the medbay.

Ratchet visibly seethed. Wheeling round, he stalked to the origin of the voice, which happened to be where Wheeljack sat on a berth. "Move, Red Alert."

"I'm treat-"

"No, you're not. I am."

"But-"

"My medbay, my rules," Ratchet grinned malevolently.

"Fine, fine." Red Alert moved backwards, hands raised.

Ratchet grasped Wheeljack's unattached arm with a little too much enthusiasm. "Hold still."

"I'm sorry, Ratchet," the engineer smiled remorsefully. "I just-"

"I don't want to hear it." Ratchet raised the arm and sighed happily with an unsettling smile. "Brace yourself. This _will_ be painful."

"I wouldn't do it like that," Red Alert interjected.

Ratchet's optics narrowed as he turned slowly to face his junior. "Excuse me?"

"I would position the-" Red Alert moved forwards, only to be jabbed at with Wheeljack's arm.

Ratchet thrust the limp limb as he spoke, punctuating important words. "Pay attention, Red Alert. Who is the CMO? I am the CMO. Therefore, you are not the CMO. Why? I've been doing this longer. I've more experience. In conclusion, I'm better. Do not question my methods again or you will find yourself needing said medical attention."

Red Alert bravely- or foolishly- grabbed hold of Wheeljack's arm. "No, Ratchet, listen. I know you favour eccentric techniques, but-"

"ECCENTRIC?" Ratchet tugged on the arm.

"Yes!"

"Oho," Ratchet snarled. "Eccentric, am I? At least I have imagination, you text-book lover!"

Red Alert yanked the arm towards him.

Optimus sighed. Wheeljack looked amazed and slightly terrified. The two medics engaged in a tug of war.

"I'll do it!"

"No, I will!"

Optimus stepped forwards. "Red Alert, please."

Red Alert sighed, but released his hold. He walked away, then turned, pouting. "Why? On what basis should _he_ perform the re-attachment?"

Optimus paused. "He was there first."

Ratchet cackled. "Childish, but true. Hold still, Wheeljack."

A scuffle broke out in another room. Optimus glanced out of the door to see a speedily-moving Red Alert struggling to hold back Hot Rod. He broke free, hurtled into the room opposite Wheeljack's and dived on the berth, smothering the mech there. Judging by the startled radio clips emerging, it had to be Bumblebee.

"_Unexpectedly, girl you came to me-"_

Hot Rod snarled. "You little-!"

They rolled off of the berth and smashed to the floor, the red and orange mech crushing the smaller Autobot.

Ignoring the situation, Ratchet looked up with satisfaction as Wheeljack howled in pain. "Done! Perfection." He glared at Red Alert, who was hovering in the corridor. "Eh, make yourself useful. Feel free to take your time, but ensure Wheeljack receives painkillers. I'm sure even a novice like you could manage that. Unless you aren't up to it."

Red Alert sighed. "Can do, sir. I will comply."

Ratchet flashed him an aggravatingly cheerful grin. "Good show, newbie. Keep this up, and I may let you apply a band-aid."

Red Alert was left non-plussed. "Band-aid? What is a band-aid?"

Ratchet strode to Optimus' side to attain a better view of the scuffle. Optimus stood motionless, bewildered.

"What's happening, Ratchet?"

"What?"

"I can't understand this tetch-"

"Tetchiness? You're imagining things. Everything's fine. BUMBLEBEE! DON'T LET HOT ROD DOMINATE YOU!"

Optimus sighed, and gritted his dental plating. "Ratchet. You're encouraging them."

"Damn straight."

Reasling no help was forthcoming, Optimus dived into the fray and began to separate the two.

Ratchet shook his head in disgust as Optimus straightened, holding one of Bumblebee's door wings and Hot Rod's spoiler.

He strode to the main part of the medbay- where there was more space- dragging the two with him. Bumblebee hissed at Hot Rod, who snarled and attempted to punch him. Optimus shook them, and turned his full attention on the Camaro. "Bumblebee! What in the Pit is going on?"

Bumblebee whined, and dropped his head.

"I'm surprised at you. And you, Hot Rod? Do you think attacking other Autobots is acceptable?"

Hot Rod's optics narrowed, and he muttered something whilst glaring daggers at the floor. Optimus sighed patiently and released his grip on the young mechs.

"Brig. Go. Now."

Bumblebee saluted and trundled off, doorwings and antennae drooping sadly.

Hot Rod scowled. "This is _so_ not fair. I totally shouldn't be sent to the brig."

Optimus growled. "Now, Hot Rod."

The smaller mech stomped away, muttering mutinously. He had barely made it out into the corridor when the twins' second lap approached the medbay. Swerving to avoid crashing into him, the two Corvettes screeched into the medbay. Sideswipe skidded round Ratchet before transforming with a flip to land neatly on a nearby berth, Sunny replicating the move with Optimus. They leapt to the ground and high-fived.

"Awesome move!"

"Don't you mean...EXCELLENT!" (*)

Optimus could have sworn he heard an electric guitar soloing- but he could have imagined it. There was no time to think about it as Prowl burst into the room.

"I've got you now, _boys_."

"Aw, Prowl. Lighten up, will you?"

"I. Will. Not. _You_," he growled, pointing authoritatively at Sideswipe, "exceeded the limit by sixty miles per hour. Sunstreaker, you reached _sixty-four_ at your peak-"

"That's what she said last night," Sunny smirked.

"The speed limit clearly isn't high enough, P-dog!"

Prowl gaped for an astro-second, an optic twitching once, before regaining his composure. "Exceeding the speed limit is forbidden. Ignoring the law is forbidden. Racing in the corridor is forbidden-"

"Nobody's perfect, P-dog-"

"Stop that. Jazz is bad enough. Calling me P-dog is now definitely forbidden."

"Prrroooowwwl!"

"I am sending you to the brig-"

The twins sighed, and mooched out.

"I blame Hot Rod."

"If he hadn't of blocked the corridor-"

Prowl rubbed his chevron. "Chevron-one, encoded." (*)

Optimus shot him an odd glance.

Ratchet shoved Red Alert. "You're useless."

"Sir, that was illogical. There is no advantage to physically assaulting me."

"I'll show you physical assault," Ratchet scowled.

"No, you won't." Optimus had had enough. "Ratchet, Red Alert, brig."

Ratchet dropped his tool in surprise. "What?"

"I cannot stand your constant bickering anymore."

"You aren't so old I cannot give you a spanking, Optimus."

"Try it, medic." Optimus bravely glared right back.

Ratchet levelled the heavy look.

Prowl stepped between them. "Prime has given an order, Ratchet."

The CMO growled and stalked out. Optimus unconsciously relaxed with a sigh.

"You wait until your next check-up, _Prime_." Ratchet had paused at the door to deliver a last threat. "You'll wish you'd never been sparked."

Optimus cringed. Red Alert followed Ratchet after apologising quietly- though for the arguments or for Optimus' future medbay encounters, he wasn't sure.

Once again, there was a beautiful silence. Optimus revelled in it, but couldn't quite imagine it would last for long. Surely an explosion or snarl or engine would burst into the room...?

Prowl gasped quietly, hands flying to his cheekplates.

"Prowl?" Optimus asked worriedly.

"I have just realised something quite startling," the police car replied, horror underlying his tones. "I, too, have exceeded the speed limit whilst chasing the twins by a terrifyingly large degree, and raced round the base not once, not twice, but THREE times!" Hysteria increased the pitch and volume of his speech. Optimus was rather stunned; his second was renowned for being impassive. "I must go to the brig at once! Sorry, Optimus, sir! Chevron-two, _encoded_!"

And with that, he stumbled away like a mech taken by great ill.

That was when Optimus knew something had to change.


	3. Chapter 3

Well done KittenCeez; You get a virtual high-five! :D The chevrons are indeed Stargate.

I was running this fic by a friend (who insisted that I put it online), and when she heard that Prowl had a chevron, she demanded he should say this. Oh, funnies. xD

_Okeydoke_. It's a (surprisingly) sunny and cheerful morning in England, but I am afraid that I am confounded.

Question for you all. Take first sentence of the fic. Would it be 'an' or 'a'? My spider-sense tells me it's 'an', but of course, if you read it without the brackets, it should be just 'a'.

Aaand '_monologue':_ I think this would be '_monologu**ing**'_, but MS Word is shouting at me. It doesn't look right with an e, so tough.

Hnh! Also, Bumblebee's italics indicate his radio clips. (This may or may not have been obvious. Thought I'd make it clear, just in case.)

Oh well. Buckle your seatbelts, because we're about to enter the twilight zone. (Cough). I mean, the boring dialogue filled chapter where this fic tries to explain itself. Hmm. Bear with me.

**Thank you for all your reviews and favouriting! I didn't actually think it even would get any! :D**

* * *

Optimus took an (unnecessary) deep breath. Jazz patted him kindly. Optimus supposed this would be a reassuring pat on the shoulder if the small mech could reach that high. Instead, he found himself being touched near his interfacing panel.

He didn't have the spark to tell Jazz that it didn't help.

He summoned his wits (the small part he had remaining after the day's events), held his helm high, and swung open the brig door commandingly, marching in-

And crashing into Jetfire.

"Ahoof!" the large mech cried, sprawling backwards in shock and colliding with a disgruntled Sunny, who hissed.

_"Watch my paintwork!"_

"Jetfire, why stand by the door?" Jazz asked.

"Do you see much space in here?" Jetfire wheezed, trying to calm down after his scare. He would have gestured to emphasise this, but there actually wasn't room. Ten Autobots in total had squashed themselves inside a room intended for one.

"Geez, Prime," Jazz commented. "When you said everyone was in the brig... I didn't think you meant _everyone_."

Optimus frowned, glancing round the cramped space, trying to identify the body parts he could see. "Where's Arcee?"

"Here." A grumpy voice came from somewhere near Bumblebee, who could vaguely be seen behind Ironhide's bulk.

"Where?"

Bumblebee flattened himself against the wall- jostling Hot Rod, who hissed angrily, unable to retaliate. Arcee was almost visible, Optimus deduced that she must be folded up in an awkward position on the floor.

"Really comfy, this."

Optimus rubbed his helm, feeling like wailing in despair. He steeled himself; he had to be strong. He had to set an example.

"Everyone, out. Feel free to proceed to Room 101, in your own time."

"That means now," Jazz added helpfully.

The various offenders trailed- be it cockily, morosely, or angrily- to the conference room, and piled in, taking their seats.

Optimus strode to the front, and stood by a podium.

There was an uncertain silence. Mechs (and femme) fidgeted alike. Optimus caressed the podium lovingly. He seemed to forget the existence of anyone but he and his podium.

Eventually, Jazz coughed. _//Optimus. Stop the podium-stroking.//_

Optimus twitched momentarily, then gathered himself for the hundredth time that day. "Autobots. You are here for a reason: each of you harbours negative attitudes towards another. This will not do. Teamwork is the difference between life and death, depression and happiness, decapitation and dismemberment, stress and-"

_//Maybe you should skip to the actual plan part.//_

Optimus levelled a hideously annoyed glare at Jazz- the silver mech caught an unnerving air of Megatron about him. Jazz got the picture. He'd keep quiet.

But Optimus wasn't finished. _//Do you want to discover yourself _in_ the plan, Jazz? ...Then, **silence**.//_ He coughed, about to resume his monologuing.

Jetfire jumped at the sudden break from the even more sudden silence.

"Jazz and I have discussed possible ways to resolve this, and have settled upon one that we believe will be effective. I will say this **only once**-"

"Unlikely," Hot Rod muttered.

Optimus' gaze found the unlucky mech.

_//Uh-oh,//_ Ironhide muttered to Ratchet.

_//Even **Hot Rod** must know that you do **not** interrupt the monologuing. At **any** cost.//_

_//Pit, even Megatron doesn't interrupt Optimus.//_

_//That's because he monologues too. They delight in monologuing back and forth for a while every time they see each other.//_

Optimus' murderous gaze softened as he regarded the sulky Hot Rod. Lips in a moody pout, frowning petulantly, optics lowered. Prepared for whatever legendary tirade might pass his way.

"Hot Rod. I am speaking." Prime reminded the young mech.

Jazz gaped for a moment in surprise, then threw his arms in the air silently, shaking his head.

Optimus raised his voice. "I know it is difficult, but this is our new home. Life would be far easier if we all got along."

"Like a house on fire!" Jazz chipped in helpfully.

"House on fire?" Ironhide questioned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I, too, cannot comprehend this terminology. Houses within close proximity of fire burn, crumble, and are destroyed," Jetfire noted.

"Human phrase," Sunny replied.

"_Stupid_ phrase," Ironhide retorted.

Prowl winced, and rubbed his chevron again. "Chevron two, _encoded_."

Optimus made a mental note to enquire about his second in command's health. "Enough, Autobots. Relationships are improved with teamwork. Therefore, I have concluded that you must be put into teams."

Jazz stepped forwards. They had agreed that he would explain to avoid utter confusion and/or mass self-termination.

"It's simple. We've split y'into handy, small groups. You'll spend _time_ together," he beamed (as if this was fantastic news), "and _do_ things together. After an appropriately lengthy time has passed an' we've watched you all squirm, we'll have an **ULTIMATE CHALLENGE**!"

These last two words had dramatic bass enhancement, and echoed around the room.

"Which I'll win, naturally," Sunny declared modestly once the last _challenge_ had faded away.

"Which your _team_ will win," Prowl corrected.

"Only because of how skilled this femme-magnet is."

"Oh yeah?! Do y'see any femmes fawning over you?!" Arcee snarled.

"I might if there were any femmes in the room," Sunny smirked, roaring with laughter as Arcee was forcefully restrained by Ratchet.

"_Sweet Primus in a romper suit..__._" Optimus sighed quietly. "Team One! Ratchet is paired with Red-Alert." He glanced swiftly at their expressions (and saw Ratchet's mouth hanging open in horror. Red Alert looked no different). He tried again. "Ratchet... and Red Alert." (No change there for Red Alert. Ratchet's mouth dropped lower.) Optimus decided to continue. "Team Two. Hot Rod and Bumblebee."

"THE PIT, MAN!"

Bumblebee's radio crackled into life. "_It's the end of the world as we know it..._"

Hot Rod scratched his helm viciously.

Sunny laughed loudly. "SUCKS TO BE YOU!"

Optimus struggled on. "Team Three: Sunny, Sides, and Prowl."

Prowl whimpered, and his fingers twitched as he whispered, "Chevron five. _Encoded._"

Sunny and Sides exchanged malicious and gleeful smiles.

"And Team Seven; Ironhide, Arcee, and Jetfire."

He was startled to see Jetfire raise a hand.

"Sir...why are we Team _Seven_? The other teams were one, two, and three-"

"Who gives a frag!" Ironhide shouted, cannons powering up. "What madness is this?"

"It is madness, really," Jazz added. "I should be with Prowlie, an'-" He soon found that he was talking to himself. The whole room had exploded (for once, not literally).

"Calm down, calm down," Optimus flapped his arms around in a vaguely calming but more distressing manner. "You must face your demons to conquer... and er, befriend them. First off, take this form and complete it- and _no_ cheating." He threw data-pads at –excepting Prowl- the groaning Autobots. "Think about your answers, and answer honestly. Then, four orns from now, there will be another written test in here."

"Awwh, mannnnn," the twins sighed as one.

"This body is _so_ wasted on paperwork!"

"Sunny!" Optimus grinned evilly, and Jazz saw a flash of Megatron again. "_Enjoy your paperwork."_ He paused. "I expect you to spend time with your team members. This will benefit you in the long run."

"For the **ULTIMATE CHALLENGE**!" Jazz added. The words boomed forth at a ridiculous volume.

"...dismissed."

* * *

Ugh. Sorry for that chapter. I'm writing the next right now... we'll be checking in on each team to see how they are reacting.

It's going to be..._intense._


	4. Chapter 4

I'd just like to thank you for your reviewing, good people! Each review sends me on a high like a druggie. It may not be healthy, but the highs are worth it.

Today my virtual happy vibes are being sent to cassandraHawkeyechekov, hummergrey and kittenceez: well done on that Naruto reference there! xD

You three can have a hug off of a mech of your choice. Or a femme, if you roll that way. ;)

Just **one.** And then back off. _(**Grr. **__**They're mine! All MINE**! 8D_)

I'd also like to radiate some love for my muse. :') I may bear this love-child, but she's the proud fic-father; some completely hilarious moments coming from her end. YAY for her!

* * *

The Autobots piled out after the impromptu meeting, spilling into the corridor like honey out of a jar. This is the gloopy yet still runny honey.

Prowl wandered in a daze. After eventually finding himself collapsed into a seat in the rec. room and staring blankly at the opposite wall, he realised his processor ached and he had no idea of how long he had been sitting there. It could have been mere kliks or orns.

"Is he alive?"

"Proooooooooooowwwl?"

Prowl blinked and two bright helms popped into focus before him. One silver, one golden. He prepared himself. He would be civil; they had broken no rules. "Good afternoon, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe."

Sideswipe flung himself onto the seat beside the black and white, making him stiffen. "Ah, it's Sunny and Sides, to you, _teammate_."

Prowl cringed and hid behind the data-pad. He would fill out the document; they would not trouble him. Sunny loomed over him.

"Oh no, Prowler. Enough paperwork. We'll make sure you start having _fun!_"

Prowl shrank backwards. The emphasis on '_fun_' sounded far more evil than entertaining or tempting. "Prime told us to com-"

"Blablahhh!" Sides cheered, somehow sliding behind Prowl and pushing him out of the seat. "You have four _orns, _not four astro seconds."

Prowl crossed to the other side of the room and sat there. He would simply ignore them; they would give up eventually.

Sunny sighed. "You can't ignore your _team_, Prowl. Optimus also says we need to work as _one_, didn't he? And THAT was an order."

Prowl twitched quietly, focusing on the data-pad. He looked at the first question-

But it wasn't there. He blinked stupidly; yes, his hand was empty. Raising his gaze, Prowl dreaded where this was going.

The twins stood at the door, Prowl's data-pad held in Sunny's hand. He flipped it nonchalantly. "If we have to do this the hard way..."

"We will," Sides finished.

_Primus, help him._

_

* * *

_

Ratchet stalked down the corridor. He had little conception of where he was going, and frankly, he didn't need a destination. He'd walk around in circles for eternity it would make his shadow disappear.

He stopped. The footsteps behind him drew closer. Ratchet shook his helm and continued, diving down an adjacent corridor.

He cocked his helm, listening. No, he was still being followed. He moved quickly, putting distance between himself and his pursuer.

This continued for a while. Ratchet found himself hurtling into the human sector, and paused again. There was silence and he sighed quietly with relief, unflattening himself from the wall and peering cautiously around the corner. No one there. Good. He'd remain here for a nano-klik or two. He turned back and found an interested pair of blue optics staring at him questioningly.

Ratchet yelped in surprise, and choked on a rude phrase.

"Sir, is there a purpose to your erratic behaviour? Does something trouble you?" The cause of his surprise glanced around the corner.

Ratchet hacked and wheezed. "Y-you-"

"Has a foreign entity hindered your systems, sir? I can assist-"

He was waved off frantically, and Ratchet eventually recovered. "Red Alert. Why are you following me?" A calm approach could, the CMO reasoned, aid him in getting through the taller mech's thick helm.

Red Alert considered the question. "We are a team, sir."

"No, no, newbie. Ignore Optimus. He's very naive. Just run along and do something... whatever it is that you do."

Ratchet turned and walked away.

"But, sir-! Regretfully it seems that I excel at annoying _you_."

"You'll be pleased to learn you're _still_ managing well," Ratchet replied, but didn't look back.

Red Alert hurried to catch up with the older mech.

"Go away."

"Apologies. I will not."

Ratchet frowned, and stopped, realizing that this was the first time Red Alert had directly opposed one of his orders.

"The order comes from Prime, sir. We must comply. And even if you do not," he continued, bowing his helm slightly in deference, "I shall follow you until you accept my presence."

"Keep on waiting." Ratchet scowled as he realised Red Alert was utterly sincere. He thought for a moment. "Rule one."

Red Alert looked up with interest.

"Keep your mouth firmly closed when I'm treating someone; I don't need the cheek. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a bad medic. It's only rarely that I kill someone. And it's _usually_ by accident," he muttered darkly.

Red Alert nodded.

Ratchet was left feeling slightly odd. He frowned and thought again- perhaps he could do something in return. Teamwork worked both ways, right? "...And in return? I'll try my hardest not to grouch at you."

Now _that_ sounded fair, didn't it?

* * *

Ironhide found himself considering the situation. Arcee was going to be a pain (no doubt), but he was sure that they could work something out. It wasn't like they were Decepticons; they could get along. And if she ever happened to walk in the way when he was practising on targets, too bad. He slapped Jetfire on the back in a mechly fashion (Jetfire's middle back being as high as he could reach). The shuttle winced.

"Well, Jetfire. At least we get some bonding-time. I can teach you to be a proper mech."

Arcee hurled herself dramatically in front of them. "Is that supposed to be sexist, huh? Getting all mechly? Ignoring the femme, eh?"

Ironhide briefly entertained seven different ways to disable her (accidently, of course).

Jetfire looked down at the pink motorcycle. "Arcee, that's rather a drastic reaction-"

"Get a life, femme. I wasn't even thinking of you."

"SEE?!" She shrieked hysterically. "You _were_ blanking me!"

They proceeded down the corridor in this fashion.

"I wasn't blanking you. You over-react for no reason!"

"Do not!"

"Do-" Ironhide was cut short by loud laughter.

"Come on, Prowlie!"

The twins tore around the corner- for once, not in their alt forms.

"Is he coming?"

"Wave the pad at him!"

Curious, Jetfire entered the rec room. Prowl sat, helm in hands, in a far seat.

Ironhide crashed into the room. "PROWL? THE TWINS WANT YOU!"

Prowl rose, swaying slightly.

"Prowl? Are you okay?" Jetfire enquired.

Prowl looked up, and the shuttle saw a sudden steely look enter his optics. "I am, Jetfire. Excuse me. I need to take out the trash."

Hoots of laughter echoed down the corridor. Sides poked his head around the door. "Nice one, Prowlie!"

Sunny's head popped into view above his brother's. "We're having fun _already_. Our team RULES!"

Prowl snarled and marched towards them. "Fun? Fun! Give me my data-pad."

"Come get it!" they cheered, finally getting a reaction.

Prowl narrowed his optics. "I've calculated a 1.5% chance that you will manage to successfully evade me. Logic dictates that odds are not in your favour."

"We don't need odds, Prowlie. We have _luck_," the silver twin declared.

"And good looks. And skill...!" And with that, Sunny dived out of the rec room window.

With a whoop, Sides followed him.

"Let's ROLL!"

Prowl walked calmly to the window to see them transform a way below and rev their engines.

"Inefficient," he noted, as they _burned rubber_. "...And pointless."

Ironhide pushed him out of the window. "Don't just stand there!"

Prowl, uttering a startled 'aaark', flailed his arms inefficiently. He pointlessly wiggled his legs. He fell three stories, smashed into the ground, and lay there prostate.

"Whoops," Ironhide muttered.

Arcee shoved him. "You idiot! Can you do _anything_ right? What if he's damaged?"

"We're not all as fragile as you, femme. Prowl is a mech. He will be fine."

Said Autobot winced into the hard ground. He pushed himself slowly onto his feet, crouching for a moment, and gritted his dental plates. Blurs shot around him, and he swayed. Hands instantly grabbed him.

"See? See where good looks and skill got us? 1.5%, and you're out-"

"PROOOOOWL!"

"You need to work on your landings-"

"-are you okay?-"

"-nice leap and airtime, but it lacked finesse-"

"Primus, you're not looking so great-"

"-it's okay. We'll teach you style. It's easier if you have it naturally, _comme moi_, but we'll try."

Prowl looked from right to left in utter confusion.

"SAY SOMETHING!" the twins wailed as one.

Prowl willed his processor to work.

"Oh, SWEET PRIMUS!" Sides shrieked. "NO!"

"RAAATCHETTTT!" Sunny howled into his comm. "MECH DOOWNN!"

Prowl shook his helm, and coughed up energon.

"Don't try to speak, Prowlie. You'll be okay," Sides reassured him with an unconvincing sob, cradling his helm.

"TO THE MEDBAY!" Sunny grabbed Prowl and Sides ran in front, screeching for a clear path, even though Prowl didn't think anyone was actually there.

"Hurry, bro!"

"He's no lightweight! ...no, don't move!" Sunny hissed suddenly as Prowl twitched feebly in an attempt to escape. "Watch the paintwork! ...**SIDES**! _YOU CARRY HIM!_"

His red twin took Prowl, and (unsurprisingly) Sunny did an excellent job of loudly clearing the way.

* * *

No matter which way he looked at it- angrily, rudely, or aggressively- it wasn't going to go away. Hot Rod scowled experimentally. Sure enough, the problem didn't disappear. He would have to take the initiative.

"Bumblebee. It's you and me out there, now. No debate," he continued, closing his optics -and ignoring the fact that the voiceless mech couldn't debate- "I'm the leader, as I rule." Hot Rod knew that the smaller mech would agree to anything he said, because- "We've let Optimus down, Bumblebee," he declared solemnly.

The yellow Autobot nodded sadly in agreement.

"Under my brill leadership, we can thrash that challenge-thing."

Bumblebee sighed. This was going to be an incredibly long task. The only way they'd ever be able to work together efficiently was if Hot Rod believed he was in charge. And if working together was what Optimus wanted, Bumblebee could suffer this. As it was, indirectly, an order from his Prime.

Hot Rod struck a pose in the corridor. "I'm simply the** best**!"

Bumblebee provided the suitable backing instruments.

"There's just no other suitable candidate-"

Bumblebee could have pointed out that there _was_ no other candidate-

"-won't beat you up if you do exactly what I say-"

Who did he think he was? Megatron? _"Caught in a trap..."_

"Now, I know that you aren't as **fast** as me!"

"_I can't walk out-_"

"Or as **strong** as me!"

"_How did I get here?"_

"Or as **cool**-!"

"_Is this something that I might regret?_"

"To be honest, I don't even thin-"

"MOVE!"

The bellow came from down the corridor. Hot Rod didn't seem to notice and continued: optics closed, one hand on hip, the other pointed in the vague direction of the ceiling.

Bumblebee waved frantically in Hot Rod's face, jumping hysterically before him to attract attention.

"Stay calm, Bumblebee. You can pester me once I've finished. I know I'm pretty, but I'm not that- OOAF!"

Bumblebee threw himself to the side as Hot Rod was flung aside by Sunstreaker. The mech smashed into the wall with an almighty thud.

"Oooh! Inspiration hurts..." Hot Rod jumped to his feet and continued. "I think Primus just touched me, Bumblebee! He blew on me, and I was blasted backwards! Did you see? Did you see...!"

Bumblebee stayed against the wall. "_What's it feel like..._"

"I feel enlight- WOOAH!" he screamed, barged to the wall again. Sideswipe charged past- with what looked like a nearly unconscious Prowl on his back. His helm bobbed violently up and down, and his limp arms were blown backwards due to the speed at which they were travelling. Bumblebee could have sworn he heard a plea for help, but it happened so quickly he could not be sure.

"Wow! They're training already!" Hot Rod enthused, picking himself up again, bouncing lightly on his feet. Bending down, he gestured for the other mech to ride on his back, tooting as he did so. "Bumblebee!"

Bumblebee rubbed his helm. He'd like to say "Pit, NO!", but at least Hot Rod- though delusional- was trying.

_**Let no one say that he tried any less than Hot Rod.**_

He winced once in preparation before jumping on enthusiastically.

"WOOHOO!" Hot Rod shouted in utter ecstasy.

Bumblebee wondered if this was such a good idea after all. Optimus surely intended these partnerships to-

No more time for thought as Hot Rod charged recklessly around a corner. As he pounded towards a window, the yellow mech cringed and closed his optics. It might be easier to not see his death approaching. _Or then again_, _maybe not_, Bumblebee realised. He had faced terrors greater than this; with all those Decepticons he had ever fought, he had not once closed his optics. Possibly because then he wouldn't be able to see the other and be able to fight them, but point made nonetheless. Pit, he didn't look away when he went up against _Megatron_. He would face his doom like a true warrior. He snapped open his optics and screamed silently as they plunged to the ground.

* * *

(Any Narutards may have noticed a reference towards the end of this chapter. :'D)

Next time, we'll be finding out what poor Prowlie's up to! D:

My wise words of the day: **don't be flashing steel. **_**E**__**verrrr**_**.**


	5. Chapter 5

I spent half an hour yesterday being absolutely amazed by MS Word. Type 'die' into their synonyms, and you get some curious responses.

Oh, there are serious suggestions like 'expire', and 'pass away'. You can 'breathe your last', too.

It gets ridiculous from then on in. You can 'depart this life' or 'give up the ghost'. Heck, you can even 'kick the bucket'.

I don't know if these would suit the context for most dying scenes. Imagine: _And with those final, inspirational words, he kicked the bucket._

**_Give up the ghost_**? Honestly, I've never even heard of this one.** Has anyone?**

Don't ask why I'm typing 'die' into the synonyms.

...(_browses more_) And, if you 'go to meet your maker', you can 'conk out'.

Actually, who am I to say anything? I talk about things dying by saying: 'They karked it.' I don't think this is made up; my mother says it too. I'm assuming it's some random Northern slang.

Hm.

Sorry about that. :D I do realise this isn't a blog. Mind you, you're probably not reading this, and I can't blame you. It gets worse every update.

To the hugs! Yes, that last part of Chapter Four was adapted from Naruto Shippuden (Which I do not own. :'( If I did, it would more likely be called: _K__akashi Shippuden_ :D).

Well done, CuriousDreamWeaver! You can have a cuddle with a mech :D.

_I loved that scene. It was triffic._

Anyway, onto this chapter! To poor Prowlie! Whoops. I mean, **Prowl**. ONWARDS!

* * *

Prowl slowly and sorely came online. As his senses returned to him, he realised his whole being ached. He opened one optic, wincing. His vision must be damaged; the world wasn't usually silver. He opened the other optic. Golden. ...Silver and golden? That rang a bell. Why? He blinked in confusion.

Focus came for a brief second, then squirmed away again. Nevertheless, it was long enough to see two (sadly) familiar faces staring back at him. Too close for comfort.

Prowl jerked backwards, opening his mouth to demand that they remove themselves to _far away_, but the words didn't come.

"PROWL!" Sideswipe cried, grasping his hands tightly. "We thought we'd lost you!"

Prowl wriggled and tried to pull away, but the silver mech had a firm grip.

"It's not good, Prowl." Sunny declared melodramatically, with a shake of the helm and a loud sob. "You're almost as ugly as Sides now."

Sideswipe glared at his brother. "We're twins, idiot."

"...Yeah, but I'm prettier."

"In your dreams!" Sides rose to his feet, affronted, and pointed at Sunny.

"In _your_ dreams, you wish you were as cool as me."

"At least in those dreams I don't have you going on the_ whoooole_ time!"

Sunny scowled, knocking over his chair over as he stood up. "You wanna say that again? Ain't nothing wrong with truth."

"There's truth, and then there's over-exaggeration-"

A sudden wheeze and crash caught their attention. Prowl, hoping he'd been forgotten, had wormed his way onto the floor and was staggering to his feet towards the door.

"No, no nonono, Prowlie!"

The older mech wailed inwardly in despair as he was seized bodily around the middle and hauled back to the berth.

"Ratchet says you have to stay still and _relax_," Sunny relayed with barely concealed glee. "That means no _work_."

Prowl's optics shot open in disbelief. How could this be? There were forms to complete, reports to be written, presentations to be-

"Ratchet!" Sides yelled. "He's trying to compute the idea of not being allowed to work!"

The CMO hustled out of nowhere- Prowl had a nasty suspicion that he had been watching and sniggering from a Ratchet-sized hidey hole- and checked the agitated screen monitoring Prowl's processor. "Prowl. Stop being such a prima-donna, or you'll be banned for an _eon_."

The black and white mech instantly froze, then led back down without any protest.

Red Alert followed the senior medic. "Sir, it appears your hypothesis was correct. The processor overload _was_ triggered by the twins."

"Of course I was right. Prowl wouldn't be taken offline by that fall. Even you can see his injuries aren't that severe."

Red Alert ushered the immediately unwilling and depressed twins away. "Prowl cannot recuperate with you two cavorting near him."

Ratchet eyed Prowl. The second in command was deviously still, optics closed. He sighed. "Prowl, you're not good at being sneaky. Rest takes time-"

Prowl's left optic snapped open questioningly.

"This duration cannot be determined," Red Alert added as Ratchet fiddled with some of Prowl's wiring by his shoulder. "You must be patient-"

Ratchet grinned. "Haha-! See, Red Alert?" He showed the other medic the reason for his glee.

Prowl twitched uncomfortably as the luminous medic poked at his neck.

Red Alert peered at the indicated area. "Ah. I have only encountered this in theory. I assume you have a completely different and controversial treatment to the recommended?"

"Naturally," Ratchet replied, sounding chuffed. "And far more efficient. The anomalous need merely be connected here- and here-" Prowl felt two small, gentle movements- "Far less painful and traumatic than actual removal. Of course, a little too much pressure or force would almost certainly cripple a main energon line, and you'd wind up with a more serious and most probably fatal problem."

Prowl cringed.

Red Alert sighed. "It did seem too simple."

Ratchet clicked in satisfaction, oblivious. "Done. If you deal with his arm, I'll have a word."

Ratchet popped into view, grinning sadistically. "Okay, Prowl. I'll make this simple. The more time you spend relaxing and not under stress, the sooner you'll be up and about. Red Alert is just fixing your arm, and I rerouted a stray wire which was messing with your basic functions." Ratchet eyed the busy medic suspiciously. "I'd check your arm myself, but team work is _team_work, after all."

True to Ratchet's words, Prowl felt his voice return. He began to speak, but found himself spluttering and coughing, jerking forwards with each wheeze. The CMO scowled, gesticulated that he should stop, and scanned his systems. "Easy, Prowl- and _before _you attempt to ask again, it'll be an orn or two before you're up and running."

Red Alert completed his bandaging and swiftly injected a painkiller.

Ratchet eyed Prowl again with an air of distrust. "Sunny! Sides!"

The twins burst through the door as if they had waited their entire lives for this one moment. Prowl whimpered quietly as the sedative began to take effect and silver and golden shapes bounded frighteningly close, frighteningly fast.

"Yes, Ratchet?" they chorused together.

"I'm afraid I don't trust your teammate not to make a run for it. I'm sure he'd like to make a kamikaze dash for some paperwork. Do not give him this opportunity. It is for his own good."

"For his own good!" they shouted, happily saluting the CMO.

Prowl's helm thudded backwards with an ill-stifled moan. He could just hear them as he started to lose consciousness.

"Don't worry, Prowlie!" one chirped. "We're here for you!"

"Oooh, Sides- we could fill out our lovely long _forms_ in great _detail_ whilst Prowlie relaxes."

Prowl's hand twitched automatically, and he whined quietly. There was a loud clang and yelp as metal collided with metal.

"Sunstreaker! That's cruel!"

"Fascinating. Peaking levels of-"

Prowl descended into utter despair, and it welcomed him gleefully, wrapping around him like a soft fluffy blanket.

* * *

Jetfire watched with horrified interest as yet another team dived out of a window.

"Is there something wrong with the lifts or ramps?" Arcee asked, bewildered, as Hot Rod and Bumblebee flew through the air.

Ironhide powered up his cannons and took aim.

"What are you doing??" Jetfire gasped.

"Airborne targets," Ironhide replied casually, as if he did this often. "Good ones are hard to come by."

"B-but- couldn't you use drones?!"

The Weapons Specialist frowned, and looked at Jetfire oddly. "...Over _living_ targets? Trust me now, Jetfire. Living ones are better practice. Although... they do make more mess. And noise." After conceding these important facts, he turned back to the window in time to see the twosome collide with the ground. "Great. They landed," he scowled, throwing his arms into the air.

Jetfire glanced at the fortunate and oblivious youths, now speeding safely- if Prowl could see, he would be having a fit- towards a nearby racetrack.

The large mech sighed in relief and headed to a seat, taking out his data-pad.

Ironhide mooched around the room, scowling dangerously at random objects, cannons rotating furiously due to being denied their prey.

Arcee continued muttering about idiotic mechs under her breath as she watched Bumblebee overtake Hot Rod on the track. This didn't go down well. Hot Rod reacted dirtily, loudly, and aggressively.

Out of the corner of his optic, Jetfire saw her wince sympathetically and mouth, "_Ow._"

He eyed the data-pad. Two sets of questions awaited him. "_Number one_," he read to himself. "_What does Ironhide like to do in his spare time?"_

He frowned, glancing up at Ironhide, who was aggressively squaring up- or rather, down- to a small plushy dik-dik that Jetfire thought belonged to Captain Lennox's sparkling- ah, toddler. That was the word. Primus knew how it had gotten here.

The scientist looked at the other question. "_Question one: what makes Arcee laugh?_"

He glanced up again. Arcee had the ability to laugh?

Hm. He saw where this was going. A series of questions on each of his new teammates, and you could only move on after the current question had been answered.

He sucked the back of his hand, and was narrowing his optics when-

"Ow!" Something had collided painfully with the back of his helm. He rubbed it, cringing, as Ironhide's faceplates filled his entire vision.

"Ironhide...! What did you do that for?"

The black mech pointed scarily at his face. "Stop it. I've been watching you."

"What?" It wasn't often that Jetfire didn't follow something.

"Stop sucking your Primus-forsaken hand!"

Jetfire beamed. "Ohh! It's a habit I have; when I'm concentrating-"

"Well, don't concentrate!"

"But I have to!"

Ironhide's face contorted, obviously displeased. "How about a deal. If I see you sucking, I'll whack you."

"What?!"

"It's discipline. It works. You'll learn more quickly. There won't be no namby-pambying on this team."

"But-"

"Save the gratitude. If you're still doing it by that ridiculous test, then I'll set my babies on you. Then we'll get results."

"Your _babies_?" Oh, Primus. _There were Ironhide Juniors_? And being small, they could hide in places Ironhide couldn't, and surprise him! They would follow him, jump in his experiments, laugh as they blasted fragile objects, make his life a living Pit! "**NO**! In the name of my sanity! In the name of Optimus Prime sending me to the brig for an eternity in preference! Or in the name of _Starscream _taking me as a lover instead! In the name of **Science** and all things holy!"

Ironhide blinked. Okay. That was passionate. Relenting, he jabbed two fingers at Jetfire. "I'm watching you... I guess there's hope. I swear I'll make a non-hand-sucking non-wussy non-jumpy mech out of you _yet_." As he thought back on Jetfire's plea, it sounded less out of passion but more out of desperation. Hey-ho. It sounded like his threat had worked. He stroked his cannons comfortingly. "See, babies? He's not coming near you."

Jetfire stared at Ironhide's back. Had he asked to undergo the Ironhide treatment? He glanced at Arcee, who, looking back at him, had a smirk on her face. She was doing something with her hands. He frowned, trying to work out what she was doing. Some sort of position? He focused, and saw the definite shape of an 'L' at the same time she mouthed: "_Loooooooserrrr_."

Jetfire sighed.

"JETFIRE!"

He jumped.

"YOU'RE SUCKING!"

No, he wasn't. He had only just removed the hand from- oh. His hand was indeed in his mouth. Oh yes; he had concentrated on Arcee's l-shaped insult. Darn. He moved both of his hands where he could see them, and glared at them, daring them to move.

They didn't.

Right, to the data-pad. In his spare time, Ironhide liked to blow things up. Heck, in his working time, Ironhide liked to blow things up. Easy. He entered his answer. Goodo: his theory was correct. Question two flashed before him. _"When faced with a dire situation from which there can be no escape, what would Ironhide do?"_

Jetfire frowned and sucked harder- before remembering he shouldn't be, and removing the hand guiltily. He looked at Ironhide, who narrowed his optics in an approving manner.

"Blow something up" seemed like a reasonable answer.

Well, at least Ironhide's test would be simple. He might not need to suck his hand after all.

* * *

In his office, Ratchet yawned and stretched. It has been a long day, what with the Twins giggling manically every ten minutes and Prowl trying every trick he could possibly think of to get rid of them. There was- for once- no one in the medbay wailing over a tiny dent in their armour, or beaming idiotically over dismemberment as they handed the CMO the lost limb. Now what to do? Ah yes, that form. He should have a look at it.

The medic pulled it from sub-space and read the first question aloud. "_What is Red Alert?_"

Many things sprang to mind, like "_irritating"_, but that probably wasn't the answer that Optimus and Jazz had intended. He could imagine _them _giggling over the pads, inventing questions that were either completely stupid or too troublesome to attempt. Curse them, the fools. Ratchet scowled. _Think about his answers?_ Hmph. He would do this later.

Walking out of his office, he decided to check on Prowl. And Sunny and Sides. The twins had actually refused to leave his side- for anything. Ratchet wasn't sure if they were still messing with Prowl or not- he assumed they were. For the sake of Prowl's sanity, he hoped so. He didn't think the second in command wanted two twin-shaped additions to his arsenal.

He wondered briefly what he would find. Perhaps Prowl had:

a) managed to actually fool the twins and was sitting, happily surrounded by paperwork on his berth,

b) died from withdrawal symptoms from lack of work, or

c) committed suicide just to get away from Sunny and Sides.

Ratchet frowned. No, it wouldn't be a); Prowl wasn't in a condition to outrun the Corvettes, no matter how desperate he was. And it couldn't be c) either; the twins wouldn't let him. They enjoyed terrorising him too much... and holy frag! _Ratchet_ couldn't let it happen. If Prowl actually terminated, the twins would turn to harass someone else! Prowl had to stay alive.

He peeped in, to see what was going on.

Prowl looked like he was thinking, quietly. Nothing unusual there. The twins were relaxing nearby, Sides doodling on his data-pad, Sunny recharging with his helm resting on Prowl's berth. Ratchet was about to turn away when-

"Look! Over there! A... sexy, naked femme-bot!"

A voice suddenly screeched over the general comm. frequency._ //I HEARD THAT! WHOEVER IT WAS, I'LL FIND YOU! YOU'RE-//_

_//Will you shut up, femme?!//_

The comm. channel fell silent. Ratchet found himself gaping at Prowl's outburst. The mech himself was pointing out of the door (unknowingly in his direction) at the invisible sexy femme.

"Rrreaally? Wher- Hang on." Sides almost turned round. "Ahah...you're at it again, Prowlie. You might have gotten Sunny with that, but not me."

Prowl's doorwings drooped questioningly.

"Sorry, Prowlie." Sideswipe actually sounded genuinely apologetic. "You just don't use the word _sexy_. Come to think of it, I've never seen you sneaking looks at pictures of scantily clad femmes or hastily minimizing your screensaver."

"Don't tell me you like mechs, Prowlie." Sunny muttered, half-dozing. "Mind you, _this_ body would turn any mech away from femmes."

Prowl slammed his helm back onto the berth.

Ratchet almost felt for him. Almost. At least the twins were being vigilant. And, he reminded himself, they were guarding Prowl from himself for good reason; he really shouldn't work so much. He definitely overworked himself.

Tally-ho. Time to unwind in the rec room-

Ah, what was this? Red Alert's data-pad was lying unattended on a chair. Honestly.

He picked it up, looking round for the other mech, when his optics accidently fell on the device. He frowned as he read Red Alert's answer to '_What is Ratchet?_'', trying to compute the answer. Ah, Primus. _Sweet._ Obviously the other mech was being sarcastic. The thought that this didn't seem Red Alert-ish then crossed Ratchet's processor.

Well... perhaps he _would_ spend some time answering the questions. Hearing footsteps, he hurriedly put the data-pad down and headed for the rec room; it would be interesting to see how everyone else's first day had gone. Giggling quietly to himself, the CMO skipped away, thinking with glee of Ironhide being stuck with Arcee.

* * *

A/N: The scantily-clad femmes. I'm guessing they just have less armour, or something.

Just roll with it.

And apologies, I did intend to update yesterday. However, I have these massive beasts that call themselves blisters on my thumb and finger, from hacking at a tree in my garden. HAHAH! (wields a huge knife dramatically)

The parents told me to.

They make writing difficult, so it's going to be slow.

I BLEED for this story. I hope you're happy. Well, technically, I'm not bleeding, I'm just very sore. :'(

To excite you, reader: next chapter, there'll be some new additions to the fic.

OMG, who could it be? :D


	6. Chapter 6

Everybody, thank you for your kind reviews! Woo! I love you all!

Okay, first item. :D

No run-ins with MS Word today, you'll be pleased to know.

However! (dramatic pause) Just to let you know, I'm interested in your opinion!

Any suggestions or stupid thoughts you may have, do mention them in a review, or PM me or something.

I'd like to know what you want to see!

I've got a very vague idea of where this is going, but I'm very open to scenes you'd like to see- as long as I think I can write them convincingly. :P

If you've had enough of Prowl and the twins, or any other characters, tell me so. Saying that, it probably won't get you anywhere- as mean as I feel when I write them, I can't resist abusing Prowlie.

So, fasten those seatbelts, and prepare yourself for... um, well, the two most popular Decepticons. It wouldn't be Transformers _(ROBOTS IN DISGUISE!)_ without them.

Sadly, I don't own them. I wish I did. There would be sooo much more _fun_. My style. xD Here they come!

* * *

"That's not good enough!"

Starscream dodged the cannon fire with the hard-earned agility from years of practice.

"Hold still, so I can obliterate you," Megatron ordered.

"With all due respect, _Lord _Megatron," Starscream hissed, "You can't blame _me_ for this!"

"I can, I should, I have, and I will," Megatron retorted. "My brother is up to something, and all you can tell me is that Soundwave can't investigate?"

Starscream flipped backwards as a blast shot near him. "So it's hardly my fault!"

"It's not Soundwave's fault!"

"What?!" the Air Commander screeched. "He's probably just molesting some satellites! That's blatant favouritism!"

Megatron thought for a second whilst firing automatically at his irritatingly fast (in)subordinate. "And? Do you have a problem with it? Or do _you_ want to molest some satellites?"

Starscream was too pre-occupied with dodging cannon fire to respond.

Megatron sniggered maliciously. "You usually have more to say than this, Screamy-weamy."

Starscream froze in shock for one astro-second, but it was enough.

Before he could come to his senses, Megatron was upon him-

"I am upon you!-"

And was pinning him to the w-

"I am pinning you to the wall!"

By the-

"By the neck!" he announced masterfully.

Starscream often wondered if Megatron didn't realise that Starscream actually _knew_ what he was doing, or if saying it made him feel more powerful. "Owowowow."

"Silence, you incompetent. Are you _honestly_ telling me that there's no-one _at all_ available to spy on the Autobots?"

Starscream, wincing with the movement, nodded.

"What did Soundwave's report say?"

Starscream choked for a moment. Megatron growled at this defiant silence before realising it would be easier for his second to speak if his vocal processor wasn't being crushed.

Benevolently, he let Starscream drop with a crash to the floor- where he sat, coughing.

Megatron rolled his optics, and kicked the other mech. "Stop your dramatics."

Starscream managed half of a scowl. "**_Soundwave_**-" the name was said with a definite sneer- "-could only detect Prime's speech when keywords were uttered. Hence, he couldn't eavesdrop successfully. And he didn't even manage to record it, for some reason. He blames it on firewalls. Clearly, he can't do his job properly," he muttered to himself.

"Like someone else I know," Megatron retorted.

"Agreed," Starscream replied, staring meaningfully back.

"What were these words, then?" Megatron tried to stay calm, but knew beating the living slag out of Starscream might make him feel better.

Starscream paused, and played the disjointed soundfiles.

Optimus' voice boomed forth at a cringing and deafening level, the deep bass sound pounding through the room. And probably most of the base. "**_DECAPITATION_**-"

Megatron hissed, nursing his audio processors, and kicked the younger mech again. "Can't you even relay an audio file without error?"

Optimus continued at a quieter level. "-_resolve...effective...difficult...-fst- conquer...cheating...long_-"

"Long?" Megatron frowned. "Why is one of Soundwave's keywords _long_?"

Starscream muttered something from the floor.

"_'Trying to make up for something?_'" Megatron repeated. Obviously he had keener audio capacitors than the Air Commander had anticipated. Luckily, Megatron had other things on his processor. "Anything else?"

Starscream paused, checking the file that Soundwave had sent him.

Megatron spread his legs dramatically, and stroked his chin.

Starscream watched worriedly. _Uhoh. Here it came._

"He's up to something!" the commander declared at last. "And I, Megatron, shall not lurk pathetically around here!"

Starscream quietly sighed, torn between relief and utter depression. Prime was legendary for his stirring, emotive, powerful speeches, rising to any occasion whether it was a pre-planned or an impromptu oration. As second in command, Starscream naturally spent a lot of time in Megatron's company. And as such, spent a lot of time listening to Megatron's far from inspiring monologues.

Said Decepticon's arm wooshed flamboyantly through the air. "-the time is coming to sweep aside anyone not loyal to Megatron-"

There was no doubt that speeches ran in the family, but Optimus Prime had- Starscream assumed- inherited the better oratory genes. Megatron clenched his spiky fist. "-and Optimus shall fall, because _I am **Megatron**_!"

Surely Prime's speeches didn't involve "_I am Optimus Prime"_ every few sentences.

Oh, silence. Starscream looked up. Megatron had finished, holding a striking pose. The Seeker clapped his talons politely. "Very true, master. You _are_ Megatron."

Megatron looked pleased at this. "Come, Starscream. We have _business_."

The jet scurried to his feet. "We do, my liege? What business?"

"If no one is available- well, my dear second, we shall have to _improvise_." This was finished by an evil chuckle.

Starscream cringed. That didn't sound good.

* * *

I apologise for the uber-short chapter.

Oh, yes. This here question was prompted by Kittisbat:

**Would you like to find out how the data-pads' questions were answered?**

If you do, I'll try my hardest to comply :D Just reply in your review, as I can't be bothered to do a proper poll. Heheh.

* * *

Oh, and another thing.

Seriously, what colour _is_ Starscream?

In the first movie, he's kind of brownish grey, but now he looks more silvery. Or is he just grey?

I know colour can be a whole opinion thing, but what do you think?

In one of the comic prequels, he's definitely adding his little symbols to himself. Maybe he gets a recolour, too. ;D Hm.

Ah well. I'm off to scribble. Catch you later!


	7. Chapter 7

I love Megatron. He says his own name repeatedly in the first Transformers movie. 3 How fantastic.

Oh, one thing in advance! I love Megatron and Starscream, I really do- but when I write them, it's so hard not to be so mean!

I envy anyone who can portray their relationship in that brilliant, comical way.

My point is this: tell me if I kind of veer off from the whole** humour** side, and start going all angsty.

But we're delving into _relationships, _here. Woopwoop! I feel like Team Seven haven't had much spotlight time, so I decided to bully them. :3

Hm. I've written looooooooads today, except most of it is for way-in-the-future chapters. Darn. Never mind.

Each chapter, there'll be a little update on how the 'cons are doing until they finally integrate properly. (;D No plot give-aways there.)

Tsk. Well: read- and review if you feel like having a hug from... Ratchet. He'll give you a hug if you review today.

He may not be pleased, but he **will**.

And, it looks like I _will_ be going over what the data-pads said.

Thank you, sweet people! xD

* * *

Jetfire chewed the inside of his cheek. Why was this so hard? He only had nine cycles left to complete this data-pad, and he couldn't answer Arcee's first question. He had asked **_everyone_**- this may have counted as cheating, but they all understood; they were struggling too.

Sideswipe had asked him if Prowl enjoyed any reckless and/or unusual activities. Jetfire had answered as honestly as he could. As to whether Hot Rod would excel in tests of intellect (whilst constrained to a time limit and avoiding enemy fire at the same time as carrying out a dangerous A-rank experiment), this was easier- yet at the same time more complicated to answer.

Did no one know what made Arcee laugh? Perhaps it was a trick question, or simply unanswerable, like _what came first: Primus or the Allspark._ (Jetfire had a theory on this, but he had a feeling no one would really appreciate it.) He bet that Optimus and Jazz didn't know the answer- but _they _set the questions. Of course they'd know.

This left one option. He'd have to stalk Arcee until she laughed. Simple. But dangerous.

* * *

Four cycles later, and there was still no sign of amusement. He _had_ learnt a lot about what she did, however. He peeked around the corner.

Arcee was still in the medbay ranting at Ratchet, who had looked depressed even before she had entered the room.

"You put that near my chest-plate again, and I'll-"

"It's a _medical instrument_!" Ratchet wailed.

"Get your grubby paws off of my-"

"I need to run some tests! How can I attach the-"

"You tried to touch me, you sex-"

"I'M A MEDIC! IT'S WHAT I DO!" Ratchet howled, running into his office.

Jetfire could see Red Alert patting him on the shoulder.

"Jetfire? What are you doing here?" Arcee had spotted him hovering.

Jetfire jumped. _Holy- codfish! Foiled. _"I'm... going to see the twins and Prowl?" he replied nervously.

Arcee frowned. "_I hope you weren't spying on my check-up._"

This sounded more threatening than Megatron with an intelligent plan.

"NO!" Jetfire squeaked, hurtling into Prowl's room- or he would have, had he not been blocked by the twins.

"You coming in, Jet?" Sides asked.

"Um, I was, yes-"

Sunstreaker menacingly shoved his helm nearer to Jetfire's (or, he tried. It looked more like he was thrusting his helm at Jetfire's chassis). This gesture would have been ineffective on any other mech of Jetfire's height, but the shuttle flinched. "Don't. Mention. The. _W_. Word."

"T-t...t-the w-what?" Jetfire trembled.

* * *

Ironhide was busy swopping rumours with Ratchet- who had sent Red Alert to see what he could do with Arcee- when he saw Jetfire being intimidated by Sunstreaker.

He narrowed his optics. "Honestly."

Ratchet looked up from a small, pink voodoo doll that Sam had kindly bought him as a present.

"Jetfire. Just look at him." The shuttle was now visibly quaking as Sunny jabbed a finger at him. "A mech that size-!"

"Size has nothing to do with it," Ratchet replied.

"Just 'cause that _has_ to be your philosophy," Ironhide sniggered, but then was immediately serious again. "Bumblebee has infinitely more of a 'backbone' than Jetfire does. And he's a _third_ of the size."

"You're too hard on him," Ratchet sighed, hurling the doll at a wall and watching with satisfaction as it bounced back, limbs flailing limply.

Ironhide growled, watching the two mechs. "If Sunny lays _one_ servo on him..."

"Shouldn't he fight his own battles?" the CMO asked teasingly, slamming the doll headfirst into the table viciously.

"C'monnnnn, Ratch. Help me out here."

Ratchet scratched his helm. "A mech as timid as Jetfire isn't going to be transformed overnight. Nor," he eyed Ironhide closely, "will blasting him help. Physical violence will not aid the condition."

Ironhide scowled and opened his mouth, but Ratchet cut him off. "It won't! And you can't go all gung-ho-cannons-blazing at Sunny. Yes, he's a twerp. No, it won't help. It'll just make things worse."

The black mech shook his helm in frustration, cannons rotating unhappily, and glanced back at his teammate, whose antennae were twitching anxiously.

Ratchet yanked on the head of the doll. It didn't come off.

* * *

After a couple of minutes of Sunny threatening Jetfire- who didn't understand what he was talking about, Sideswipe finally intervened quietly. "The _W-O-R-K_ word. We're trying to wean Prowlie off of it- so try not to bring it up, okay?"

Jetfire twitched thankfully, and entered.

"Leave him alone, _yellow_." The hiss was not directed at him.

"Yellow? You just call me _yellow_? I'm golden-"

"Hey, P-Prowl." Jetfire tried to ignore the twins.

"Morning, Jetfire." the depressed looking patient responded. "You look as distressed as I feel."

"...W-what?"

"Those two are driving me insane. All day, they argue." He saw Jetfire open his mouth. "Oh- when they're not arguing, they're calling me Prowl..._ie._" He hissed the _ie_ quietly, as if it were offensive.

"Could be worse, sir. They could physically attack you."

Prowl eyed his visitor, and noticed a large cannon burn on his shoulder, and a series of dents on his legs. "What on Cybertron happened to you?"

"I got in the way of my teammates when they were- um- debating, and then Arcee..." he trailed off with a shrug, further explanation seeming unnecessary.

Prowl winced. "You should see Ratchet about these injuries."

Jetfire winced. "Doesn't matter, I'll be fine. They're just surface." Inspiration struck him. Perhaps Hot Rod would know what made the femme laugh- he hadn't asked the younger mech, and he did spend some time with Arcee. "Do you know where Hot Rod would be?"

Prowl massaged his nasal-plating. "...Assuming he's with Bumblebee, they'll be in the Training Room. At least, I could be sure if I had my schedule...?" He looked up, hopefully.

Ratchet's voice growled through the comm. frequency. "**N-O**."

Prowl sighed. Jetfire fumbled- how did one fumble when pulling something from sub-space?- and produced a small device. "Here- Wheeljack and I made this for you, because we thought you were probably really bored, and-"

"Does it... explode?"

Jetfire beamed. "Shouldn't do."

Prowl took it. "What is it, then?"

"A version of what the humans call a Rubix Cube- obviously a little more complicated."

Prowl smiled back. "Thank you, Jetfire."

The shuttle decided that he didn't want to walk past Sunstreaker just yet. He walked to the window, intending to look at the view.

"...If you're going to defy rule number 75b, you had better do it while I'm regarding this cube," Prowl commented.

Jetfire consulted the hefty list of rules.

_75b:_

_Exiting a building by the window -for a reason other than emergency- is forbidden. _

_P.S. This is due to the large amount of casualties sustained by landing on other Cybertronians, not to mention human allies._

_P.P.S. This is also due to the fact that it is extremely annoying._

"Will do, sir." This would please Ironhide. _If only he knew._ Jetfire carefully navigated his large frame through the window, and jumped.

As he flew towards the Training Room, feeling slightly liberated, he saw Hot Rod and Bumblebee inside, firing at something.

Well, naturally. They _were_ training. That wasn't what stalled his engines. He saw Arcee, sniggering in their direction.

Yes! This was his chance.

Jetfire sneaked a glance at the origin of her amusement.

Darn. He couldn't see anything. He'd have to fly closer.

All he could see was- well, _nothing_. Just Hot Rod and Bumblebee.

Perhaps she was laughing at some memory, or something.

Jetfire thought carefully. Was sniggering even laughing, anyway? Sniggering was more _malicious_.

He saw Hot Rod whirl on Bumblebee as the other mech's cannon blast flew by his helm.

Arcee sniggered again.

_Wow, that was harsh._ Jetfire compiled all of the times he'd seen Arcee snigger. Yes, in all parts, she'd been sniggering... at mechs. _Was that all?_

_No! It wasn't!_ His engines stalled again in excitement.

This time, they wouldn't start again. _Uhoh. _Transforming, Jetfire prepared to hit the ground. This was going to hurt, but if he landed correctly-

He had to record the answer in the data-pad first, in case he forgot! Quickly, the scientist transferred his hypothesis onto the device. Done. Oh dear- the ground had approached worryingly fast. There wasn't time to land properly. Jetfire winced in preparation for the impact.

He could just _tell_ this was going to ache when he came back online.

* * *

Starscream scowled. This wasn't going to work. Yet another one of Megatron's plans doomed to utter failure.

"Optimus will never see this coming," the Decepticon Commander chuckled darkly. "We'll walk in and blast the merry Pit out of him until he reveals the scheme!"

He strode away down the corridor, obviously intending to do it right that second.

_Oh, Primus_. Megatron clearly wasn't in a thinking mood today- well, that was blatant. It had taken him five cycles to come up with this latest genius idea.

"Uhh... Lord Megatron! Perhaps we should fine-tune your magnificent plan-!" Starscream hurried to catch up.

Megatron frowned, but continued on his way. "Why?"

Starscream had discovered long ago that if he said something was rubbish, Megatron was even more likely to proceed. This was some twisted way of asserting his dominance, and Starscream hated it. If that egotistical fool would listen, perhaps the Decepticons would have gotten somewhere by now.

It must be true. It was what Wikipedia said.

For now, he'd have to rely on influencing Megatron another way. "It is going to be hard to get to Prime, my liege. But then again, if it were _my _plan, I would blast my way in. I definitely _wouldn't_ use _any_ form of stealth. I definitely _wouldn't_ sneak in there. I hate sneaking; I can't do it. I just wasn't made to be sneaky."

Megatron immediately stopped. "Too bad, Starscream; you're going to have to learn. We aren't Decepticons for nothing! We'll fool those foolish Autobots! Right under their nasal-plating, we shall steal victory!"

Starscream sighed with relief; he knew he could rely on Megatron's love for spiting him.

But unholy Pit, what was he getting himself into?


	8. Chapter 8

Here we are again!

Thank you for all the reviews and favouriting, you beautiful people!

And hoorah! Kittisbat, Captain Arianna Trouble, Crossfire1205, Black Demon Cat, Clumsy Peg, RzSpeeder, autobotleader101 and ShadowedBlossom, Ratchet's _coming for you!_

(pushes him towards you)

Well, he** is **if he doesn't want to have an _unfortunate accident_. **Heheh.**

Thank you for your little tips and ideas! I'm beavering away, and I really appreciate them :D

I went to see Harry Potter yesterday! Great film, I recommend it whole heartedly.

It seemed as though Draco spent most of the film striding round with a large, sneery pout and emo-angsty look on his face.

Fantastic! xD

Transformers may have some competition this year for a CGI award, with all the CGI-ey films. But this time, it can't be beaten by the spasticated effects of The Golden Compass.

COME ON.

**WARNING: CONTAINS BRIEF MOMENT OF MONOLOGUING.**

**Disclaimer! I don't own Bumblebee's songs. :( Not one.**

**Nor do I own Bumblebee, or any of his friends.**

**I don't even own one of their data-pads.**

**Life sucks.**

If you review today, Jazz is going to give you a big cuddle :) Because seemingly, he doesn't have anything to do.

* * *

Jazz bounded through the newly-patched door into Optimus' office.

At least, Optimus assumed it was Jazz. No one else _bounded_ into his office- Bumblebee came closest, but even he only had a jaunty spring in his step.

But the figure looked more like an army of data-pads with silver legs than the Head of Special Operations.

"Afternoon, Jazz."

"Delivery for Oppy," the mass of data-pads replied cheerfully, and shuffled to the desk, where they were all unceremoniously dumped.

"...Er... what's this?"

"Data-pads, Prime," Jazz beamed, emerging from behind the mountain, and wiping his hands.

"That much I _had_ deduced."

"They're maaainly Prowler's, him being off and all-"

"I know, I know- Hang on. What did you just call him?"

"Hmm...? **Prowler**...!" Jazz added an elegant flourish.

"...Why?"

"The twins have stolen _Prowlie_."

"I don't think he's going to appreciate this new name any more than the last one- wait, you can't be serious-!" Optimus protested as Jazz inched towards the door. "What in the name of Primus am I going to do with them all?"

Jazz frowned. "Fill 'em in."

"No, no, no." Optimus took a deep, theoretically calming breath. He mustn't explode. Or implode. "I only just finished my work, _and_ I took a _quintuplet_–sized load because of Prowl! How can there be more? That's not justice!"

"You're Prime," Jazz pointed out. "You got the power."

Optimus grinned wickedly behind his mask. "Jazz... pick up those pads. We're going on a _walk_."

"Right on...!" Jazz gathered the mound, and trotted after him.

* * *

Hot Rod was busy in the rec room with his entourage of one.

"Well, play it back," he demanded.

Bumblebee dutifully did so. Hot Rod nodded, pleased. "Good. Now, prepare to record a new entry." He coughed dramatically. "This is Skipper Hot Rod's log. Today we encountered major resistance-"

Bumblebee sighed.

"Bumblebee! I'll have to start again! Wipe that, then record again, on my mark." He paused for a second, rubbing his chin in a dramatically thoughtful manner. "You know, I think I prefer the term _Team Leader _to_ Skipper_. Conveys more of a sense of _equality_. And less of the whole ship-captain sort of thing... Wipe the whole collection."

The yellow mech's optics widened in horror. "_You know your problem?_"

Hot Rod, listening for once, thought for a moment. "Probably my modest modesty."

_"The conversation we had last night- when all I wanted to do was knife you in the heart..."_

"-Or maybe it's my lack of self-love. I lack confidence." Hot Rod rubbed his chin. "Cor, I do have a strong, noble chin. Just _look_ at it."

Bumblebee raised his optics to the ceiling. "-_fst_- _j__ust falling in love with ourselves-_"

"Well, who wouldn't?"

"_Sunny...-fst- You can do so much better than this!_"

"What's that supposed to mean? You're learning valuable things in my presence, so shut up, _shorty_."

Bumblebee's doorwings flared. "_You haven't told me anything that I didn't already know...!_"

Hot Rod rolled his optics. "As if, youngling. I've taught you everything. Now, silence. Just be lucky to bask in my greatness."

"_You think that you can just push me around-_"

Hot Rod growled, and pulled back a fist-

"_Right between the eyes, I won't feel a thing- fst- ain't nothing but a whiny kid-"_

The door opened, and Optimus walked in with a data-pad loaded Jazz.

"What are you doing, Hot Rod?"

The red and orange mech awkwardly moved his limbs backwards further. "Just, um- stretchiiiinnnnnnng..."

"Well, stretch this," Optimus sniggered, as he rapidly threw data-pads at the twosome.

Most collided with Hot Rod's face, but Bumblebee managed to catch the ones intended for him.

"Work for you," Jazz announced happily. "It's not like you've done any- not aimed at you, 'bee."

Bumblebee chirped in acknowledgement. Hot Rod scowled through a pad.

"Me n' Prowl are onto your sneaking, Hot Stuff." Jazz declared warningly over the data-pads.

"While we're here, we may as well collect your forms," Optimus added, expectantly glancing at both mechs.

Bumblebee winced, but pulled it from sub-space and offered it to his commander.

"Thank you, Bumblebee."

Hot Rod hurled his sulkily. Optimus raised an optic ridge, and calmly reached out, catching it without comment.

"Too cool, Boss-Bot," Jazz muttered.

"Thank you, Jazz. Where next?"

"Medbay. Teams One and Two."

"Fabulous." Optimus couldn't resist a slight skip as they left the room.

* * *

Megatron stood dramatically, legs planted firmly apart, hands on hips, with a perfected malicious glower aimed towards the Autobot base.

This may have looked very striking and impressive if they weren't still in the _Decepticon_ base, and Megatron wasn't scowling at a wall.

Starscream sighed. He'd been standing like that for _hours_. What was he hoping to achieve?

Megatron wheeled round faster than Ironhide blasting a Decepticon. "**You**."

Starscream looked round in the vain hope that there was someone else.

"...You are doubting me."

"W-what, my liege? Never!" Sensing the commander's arm moving, he ducked as Megatron hurled something sharp and spiky at him.

Pit, it had better not be Frenzy. Oh, hang on. He was dead. His retarded brother, then.

Starscream scowled. _Satellite spawn_. Tensing himself for an attack, he was surprised to feel nothing. He looked up.

Megatron was scowling and repeatedly hurling things over Starscream.

Couldn't he see Starscream had moved? Was he insane? The smaller mech glanced backwards. Ah, no. Well, maybe, but not to the point of hallucination.

There was a small picture of Optimus Prime pinned in the corner of the room and Megatron was aiming at it. That was okay, then.

"...So, Starscream. Any ideas?" Megatron narrowed his optics, and threw another dart. Starscream winced, twitching in sympathy as it skewered Prime's right optic.

"N-no, my liege."

"So what are you here for?" The large mech waved a hand dismissively.

Starscream almost sighed in relief. _Finally_! He got up to leave, expecting the door to open before him. It didn't.

A threatening tone stopped him. "And precisely _where_ are you going?"

The Air Commander's wings drooped miserably. _Oh, Primus. Why do you hate me?_ "You just told me to-"

"No, I didn't." Megatron threw a barrage of darts. A second later, Optimus' right antenna was bombarded.

"But-" He hovered at the door, hopefully.

"Come hither, Starscream."

Well, that was creepy. Megatron viciously flung another dart, which pierced Prime's interfacing panel. Optimus looked shocked, but that could have been the metal sticking from his forehelm.

With little other choice, Starscream edged closer, waiting for Megatron to address him.

After what seemed like an eternity, and five more assaults on Optimus, Megatron spoke. "You misunderstood me, you glitch. I meant: _why_ are you my second in command?"

Starscream twitched nervously. Megatron probably wasn't wanting a list of his abilities at this point. Perhaps-

Megatron narrowed his optics. The almost unrecognisable Optimus suffered a direct hit to his chestplates. "Fetch me a new picture. You'd better hope that this will cheer me up."

Experience told Starscream it wouldn't. He bolted.

* * *

A/N:

Uhohs for Starscream. :P

My friend thought it was going to be some smut-scene in the chapter 6 where Megatron "spreads his legs dramatically", and Screamer gets worried.

Heheh.

Apologies for this part below; I just _had_ to get it out of my head. Hopefully I did it quickly enough. Hopefully the bunnies won't come back.

Ah well. Tell me what you think; I'll write again soon!

* * *

**Deleted Scene!**

Optimus leaned back in his chair, and yawned happily. He'd just completed the biggest work load of his life, and was looking forward to some Prime Time.

There was a thud at the door, and Jazz bounced through, carrying a mountain of data-pads.

"Delivery for Op-WOAHHH!"

Optimus cringed as Jazz tripped on a stray data-pad, and crashed to the floor. The data-pads cascaded round him.

"CUT!" Prowl jumped out of his Director's Chair.

A slow-falling data-pad landed on Jazz's face. "Ow."

"Bumblebee, get Ratchet," Prowl commanded. "...Jazz, I think we need less of the bounce."

"Less of the- but I always bounce!"

Ratchet could be heard snarling from a distance. "I'M OFF-SET! DOESN'T THAT MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?"

Prowl frowned. "Well, we can't send a stunt-double in for your entrance."

"Uh...why? Ah, they won't be as Jazzy. No one can bounce in like I do."

"You can't _bounce_ in!" the Director insisted, desperately.

Hot Rod leaned in. "I could do it."

"NO, HOT ROD!"

"You could still bounce- but put more weight on your right foot, and have a little more _spring_," Sunstreaker went through the motions as he explained.

"Hey, Sunny, who appointed you as Head Choreographer?" Jazz enquired.

"Uh, myself, obviously. Noone else has _this_ smooth talent."

"Someone ask Jetfire if there's any prop solutions," Prowl ordered.

"He's still out from his accident during filming, Prowlie."

"Don't call me Prowlie. Don't give me excuses! Give me **RESULTS**!"

"You could just glue the pads together," Wheeljack sighed from his position on the camera. "Then they won't fall anywhere, and Jazz can prance around all he likes."

"Brilliant!"

"...Can I have more screentime?"

"No. Stop asking. Okay, back to positions. Let's roll-"

"That's my line!" Optimus shouted angrily, waving a fist.

"Wha-"

"YOU CAN'T TAKE MY LINE!"

"Steady, boss bot." Prowl apologised. "Okay. Scene twenty-four, take eight. Action!"


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you, wonderous reviewers! My gratitude extends to you wonderful favouriting-y people. :)

Seeing as you all enjoyed your Ratchet hugs (cough, cough) Jazz is coming to give all you reviewers huggles.

And tori the almighty, thank you for the Prowl hug. Appreciated, much! Jazz will squeeze you extra tightly. :D

There's some new characters in this chapter. I'm not sure whether they're going to stay or not. Please mention in a review what you think.

Primus, they're so hard to write! Forgive their accents. :D

Here we go!

* * *

"Thank you, sir."

Ratchet scowled. "I'm complaining."

"My condolences sir, but there is no reason to be upset." Red Alert deftly took one of Ratchet's knights.

"Bugger you." Ratchet had thought that playing chess would appeal to the younger medic. He was right, too (_of course),_ but he hadn't reckoned on Red Alert being a genius.

Frowning in concentration, the CMO saw an opportunity. His bishop flew across the board. "Haha. Checkmate."

Red Alert gently bashed his fist into the table. "Darn. I did not notice that."

Ratchet sniggered. "That _was_ your first game. You did well, so quit your _complaining_."

Red Alert smiled; compliments didn't come easily from Ratchet. He stood. "I had better check up on Prowl."

Ratchet nodded. "I'll see to Jetfire."

"May I enquire about a rematch afterwards?"

The other mech grinned. "You may."

They were about to move when Optimus sprang into the medbay.

Ratchet narrowed his optics. This wasn't good. No one _sprang_ into the medbay.

"No, Optimus, not quite," Jazz's voice declared from outside the door.

Optimus, with a slight expression of disappointment, retraced his steps.

"Watch: Little more _spring_, like...so!" Jazz bounced into the room, ominously loaded with data-pads.

Red Alert frowned; _How on Cybertron did he manage to prance around with dropping anything?_

Optimus observed this, then nodded. "Think I've got it." He exited the medbay. Two seconds later, he pranced into the room with a little leap and looked to Jazz for approval. "Better?"

Jazz nodded thoughtfully. "Mech, you got some natural flair."

Optimus sniffed modestly and closed his optics. "I try." They snapped open with evident intent. "Ratchet, Red Alert. You don't look very busy. No work to be done?"

"A medic's work is never complete," Ratchet sniffed right back, optics sliding over the chess game.

"Well, I'm sure you'll find a way to squeeze these into your _busy_ schedules." Optimus signalled to Jazz, who gleefully dumped a large pile of data-pads onto a nearby bench. "Right. Now for- hang on! I see Ironhide!"

Ratchet gaped as the commander jauntily strode past. "...Stop your inane smiling, Jazz. Or _I'll_ _stop it for you_."

Jazz quickly followed Optimus. _Safety in numbers._

* * *

Ironhide was standing half-in, half-out of a room, as if unsure of himself. Seeing this unusual behaviour, Optimus had decided to ease him into the topic of the extra workload. In no time at all, he had been completely side-tracked into engaging in some conversation about weaponry.

Jazz wasted no time.

"Here, Ironhide," Jazz beamed, thrusting data-pads into his arms. "Watcha doing here?"

Ironhide blinked stupidly at his new belongings. "Er... Jetfire crashed."

"Crashed what?" Jazz questioned, still beaming obliviously.

"Himself," Ironhide replied.

"C'mon, 'hide. No one crashes themselves _randomly_- oh...!" Peeking into the room, Jazz spotted the berth ridden Jetfire. "Okay. _He_ does."

"How did he do that?" Optimus enquired with an air of wonder.

"Probably through some act of stupidity," Arcee's voice scowled from around the corner.

"**_Holy_**- sorry, didn't see y'there, Arcee," Jazz grinned sheepishly.

"Didn't see me? Saying I'm small and insignificant?"

"Oh, Primus."

"Here we go."

Jazz rapidly bombarded the femme with data-pads -sending her staggering backwards- and ran out of the room.

Optimus decided it could be safer to leave Team Seven to it. "Give Jetfire my best. Comm me when he onlines."

"Thank you, Optimus." Ironhide commented as Arcee launched herself across Jetfire's prone form towards the door.

The commander clapped Ironhide on the back and turned to leave, but nearly crashed into Jazz, who had backpedalled.

The silver mech thoughtfully left some data-pads for Jetfire on his berth, then sped away.

"...I take it you've completed your forms," Optimus paused at the door, Arcee colliding with his leg at the unexpected stop.

"Yeah, here." Ironhide handed his over enthusiastically.

Optimus paused. _This was fishy_. _Ironhide + paperwork= explosions._ _Not enthusiasm._ "These are Jetfire's, aren't they?"

"...Yes."

"Yours are where?"

Ironhide coughed. "There was- an accident."

"Continue." Optimus tapped a foot, his expression unreadable.

"My pads...er, flew out of sub-space whilst in the Training Room." Ironhide gestured dramatically, his expression one of 'convincing' shock.

"Continue."

"And I accidently blasted them into smithereens."

Optimus paused, pursing his lips. "Your data-pads _flew_ out of sub-space."

Ironhide grimaced, and tutted. "Too bad. Gotta work on that."

Arcee pulled her data-pads from sub-space. "Here. However, I'd like to mention that I have a problem with some of the questions. They were very-"

"I concur _completely_. Got to go, things to do." Optimus quickly fled, heading for Prowl's room.

He was almost there when Ratchet materialised before him spookily.

"Prowl isn't to be given any work."

"Why not- ow!"

Ratchet had smacked him upside the helm.

Optimus quickly amended himself. "I agree. No work. I'll just pop in."

Ratchet glared after him, thinking up suitable punishments. No one just gave him extra work_. No one._

_

* * *

_

Optimus hesitated by the room's entrance, glancing around cautiously to see if the twins had booby-trapped the doorway.

So far, so good. The red and blue mech sighed with relief, and entered. Prowl appeared to be recharging, with the twins playing Rock Paper Scissors nearby.

Another mech was taking refuge in the room; Jazz was about to poke Prowl's resting form.

"_Jaaazz..._" Optimus rumbled softly, making all three mechs jump.

The small Autobot pouted and piled two heaps of data-pads for the twins on the small table.

"How is Prowl?"

"A question more suited to a professional, don't you think?" Ratchet swooped in like some creepy disease and picked up the data-pads.

"Uh, Ratch, what are you doing?"

"Prowl can't see these, you over-grown sparkling!" the CMO hissed, hurling one at Optimus' helm.

It caught him in the optic. "Owww...! Fine! Sunstreaker, Sidswipe, subspace them."

The twins scowled, doing so grudgingly. Obviously they had been hoping for a monumental argument between the two titans- one which Ratchet would win (because this could mean that they didn't have to work).

Anti-climax. Not something the brothers coped with well. Suddenly, an argument erupted.

"Sometimes I wonder if you ever grew up!"

"Sometimes I wonder if you ever will! OW! Stop that!"

Ratchet grabbed the commander's antenna, and snarled something quietly into his audio processor.

"But-"

The antenna was tugged.

"OWWCHH! You wouldn't!"

"I would. And you _know_ I would."

"AAAH-EEE! Fine! Primus, you're so-! "

Ratchet released Optimus with a flick of the wrist. Hearing sniggers, the huge Autobot attempted to regain some form of authority. "Sunstreaker, Sideswipe: whilst I'm here, I would like to collect your other data-pads."

Sideswipe looked up, blinking vacantly. "Data-pads."

Sunny looked equally- and suspiciously- uninformed. "None come to mind."

Optimus narrowed his optics. _Megatron wouldn't have to deal with this. _"Think about it. Hard."

The twins shuffled, optics instantly directed somewhere else, suddenly uncomfortable. "Oh, thooose."

"Definitely not got them on me. Would ruin this look I've got going."

Sides patted himself down pointlessly. "Ah... don't know where mine is."

"Must have left it somewhere," Sunstreaker muttered as he scratched his helm.

"We could get them to you- soon?"

Optimus growled, and stepped towards them. "How about you'll get them to me- **now**?"

"You know what?" Sideswipe jabbered. "I remember where mine are. They're in our room."

"Yeah, same, but we can't go get them. We're guarding Prowlie."

"Get those Primus-forsaken pads before-"

"But what about _Prowlie_?"

"Boss-bot and I can look after Prowler until you get back," Jazz offered helpfully.

The twins looked at Optimus, who sighed heavily. "Yes. I'm sure that **_Prowl_** will be fine without you for a breem."

The two mechs nodded and charged out of the room, obviously intending to be as quick as possible.

"Hey, twins!" Jazz shouted after them, remembering something with a wicked grin. "You'll never guess who's back on base-"

Optimus cuffed him. "Gossip can wait, Jazz! Don't give them _more_ excuses to delay giving in their work!"

* * *

Sunny and Sides tore into their room, racing to their separate berths.

"Check?"

"Check!" Sideswipe confirmed, finding his pads. "Check?"

"Nope." Sunny threw half of his belongings into the air in a comically desperate search.

"Just think, bro." The silver twin dodged a holo-vid of Sunny dramatically posing.

Sunny looked frantic. "Think? THINK?!"

"You be needing some processor for dat," a new voice claimed.

Sideswipe froze. Sunstreaker closed his optics forcefully. _Bad dreams went away if you thought hard enough about it, right?_

"Yo, Mudflap! Come check what de trash chucked out!"

Sunstreaker scowled.

Sides shook his helm in disgust. "Comedians. C'mon, Sunny, find those pads and let's go."

Unfortunately, the orange twin joined his brother.

"Dat's right, back aways. You doesn't wants t'be messin' with dese serious skills."

"Right on, Muds!"

They high-fived.

"Do- do you even realise how easily we could just beat you up??" Sunny demanded, whirling round, and pointing a disbelieving finger at the two.

"Keep tellin' youself dat."

"You jus' jealous that we gots sent on some mission without no old geezas."

"Skids, they _is_ old geezas."

"No, dey's _ugly_."

"Yeah, compared t'us," Mudflap agreed.

Sunny was now beating his helm against the wall. Sideswipe -a little (although only a _little_) less aggravated- attempted to calm his twin over their bond. _You know they could use their spark-bond, Sunny. They're just winding us up._

_Probably so stupid they don't know they have one,_ he answered.

"Try not t'be too jealous when femmes start flockin t'our door," one continued.

* * *

**The medbay, a minute earlier...**

Optimus noticed two beseeching optics watching him. Prowl was awake.

"Ratchet says you're nearly ready to be discharged... good, eh?"

His second said nothing, instead deliberately narrowing his optics which darted to Jazz, then back to Optimus. He lifted both hands slightly, seven fingers raised.

It didn't take long for both to realise what he was insinuating.

Jazz blinked, and consulted the Rules.

_Rule 7c_

_Paperwork given by a senior officer **must** be completed._

_PS. There are no exceptions._

_PPS. And yes, slackers. It must be to a satisfactory degree._

Prowl was **defying** orders. A dangerous thing to be doing, when these orders were given by Ratchet. Amazed, Optimus coughed loudly. _//Distraction, Jazz.//_

_//Y'think I'm going t'go helm to helm with the Hatchet?//_

Optimus thought quickly_. //Do it for Prowl. He needs this. Look at him. He's wasting away.//_

_//**You**__ do it for Prowl. We're in this together now. __//_

"WHY DO NONE OF MY SUBORDINATES LISTEN TO ME? I BET THAT MEGATRON DOESN'T HAVE HALF OF MY WORRIES! ALL HE HAS TO CARE ABOUT IS ANNIHILATING US! NO WONDER HE'S SO GOOD AT IT! NO WONDER HE CAN SMIRK MALEVOLENTLY WHILST I AM TENSE! MAYBE I SHOULD GET A PUNCH-BAG LIKE STARSCREAM!" Optimus roared hysterically, flailing his arms, optics insanely wide. He ran out of the room, howling.

Jazz was astonished. Who knew that the Autobot Commander had such a hidden talent in drama? _//Wow, Oppy. Great stuff, really genuine.//_

He speedily handed Prowl a collection of data-pads. The suddenly happy mech briefly hugged them to his chassis, then sub-spaced them. There was a sudden thud, and the building shook.

Jazz and Prowl stared at the open door fearfully. Ominously, Optimus was no longer shrieking.

Ratchet entered the room, dusting his hands. "Apologies. That sedative should keep him out for a while."

* * *

Arcee suddenly snarled.

Ironhide glanced up, cannons whirling, preparing for an attack. "What is it?"

"Someone just bad-mouthed femme-kind."

"How in the Pit do you know?"

She bristled. "I just _know_ these things."

"Know who it was?"

"My intuition is never wrong. I'll know who when I see them."

Ironhide's optics widened. _This intuition sounded like scary stuff_.

* * *

_"_Are dere even any femmes on base?_"_

Both twins paused in deep thought. "Dere be Arcee."

"She'd fall for dis body," Mudflap mused.

"No ways! I'm more her style."

Mudflap punched his brother. "Oh, really? Does she like dem to come ass-whooped?"

They started brawling in the corridor.

Sunny and Sides eyed this altercation with the air of older superiority.

"How in the name of Primus do they know about interfacing?" Sides whispered in horror.

"We doesn't," Mudflap retorted shamelessly. "We don't needs to."

"Yeah. Is it some kinds of fightin' style?" Skids slapped his brother.

"I bet youse two sucks at it, cause youse just sucks aft anyways," Mudflap declared.

Sideswipe breathed deeply; a juddering, ill-working attempt to remain calm. Sunny twitched violently, his hand knocking a box over.

Inside were the elusive data-pads. Sides sighed in relief.

_Let's get _**_out_**_ of here._

_Bro, I'm with you_, Sunny responded immediately.

They left the room, locking it behind them, and mentally congratulating themselves on not beating the other pair of twins to scrap.

Prowl would be proud.

They were half-way down the corridor when they heard the fighting cease. "Hey, Skids. I's bored. What say we's goes and pranks on dat Prowl?"

"Sounds like you da mech!"

Sunny and Sides froze and turned as one, heading back.

"No one pranks on our Prowlie."

"No one but us."

* * *

A cycle after fleeing Megatron's wrath, Starscream sat, watching the sea.

Nothing could have hidden from his delicate sensors. If he wanted to, he had the ability to watch the wildlife, the birds drifting lazily high in the sky, or life deep under water. The humans on the nearby beach- especially that randomly naked one, playing with a large inflated ball.

_Jiggling, jiggling._

But he found it oddly peaceful just to watch the gentle, lapping surf, fascinated by the varying strengths of the water. Sometimes these gentle waves would be engulfed and crushed by larger, dominant breakers.

The sun beat down upon the cliff he sat upon, and he closed his optics, fanning his wings in the heat.

He'd have to go back sooner or later, and this he dreaded. But, for now, it was nice to be doing nothing, and not worrying about-

"Megatron has you, **underling**!"

_Holy mother of- _Starscream jumped up in shock, whipping round to see the large silver mech. How had he not sensed him coming? He held up his hands nervously, trying to stop the tyrant advancing. "I- I can explain! Uh, I was just... practising sneaking, my lord. I don't want to screw up the mission!"

Megatron's optics narrowed as he watched Starscream retreat. "I didn't tell you to _sneak_. I told you to fetch me a picture."

"_Icandothatrightnow-_"

Megatron's response was to grab the Seeker roughly and hold him over the cliff edge. "You defied me, didn't you? Speak, or I'll drop you."

Starscream thought he must have misheard his commander. "Sorry- you'll do _what_?"

"Are you testing me?! I'll throw you over!" Megatron snarled.

Starscream bit his lip. Perhaps Megatron had disabled his flight capability without him realising? Otherwise Seekers didn't really give frag about heights and drops.

More likely, Megatron was going insane.

Megatron knew his second was worried. He could **see** it. He squeezed Starscream's neck encouragingly for a response.

"...Oh- oh no. I shall surely fall to my death," Starscream replied, voice wavering.

Was he about to cry? He was shaking. Megatron's optics narrowed. He was laughing. Obviously a lunatic- or maybe he didn't think Megatron would dare. Well, **he **was Megatron. He would show the fool.

Angrily, Megatron lessened his hold.

In anticipation of the fall, Starscream's thrusters instinctively engaged, propelling him- into Megatron, who hadn't actually let go.

Megatron stumbled backwards with the unexpected force, and fell backwards, crushing an icecream van parked by the cliff edge.

Starscream squawked in surprise, sprawling unusually gracelessly with a smash onto his leader.

Both led for a moment, slightly dazed and confused.

Eventually, Starscream regained himself. Pushing himself up, he found himself looking into Megatron's optics.

Megatron shook his head slightly, and saw Starscream just above him, staring.

"When did I get on the floor? Starscream-! This is your doing! ...Why are you upon me?" He became more aware of their body positions. "Why are you mounting me?"

Starscream blinked, still partially stunned. "...Did anyone ever tell you you've got such pretty optics?"

Taken by surprise, Megatron blinked.

Starscream cringed, expecting an assault of some kind.

Megatron sniffed. "Everyone always said Optimus had the pretty optics. You know, the piercing kind that look right through you and gaze upon your very spark."

"Your optics are _very_ pretty, my liege," his Air Commander reassured him.

Megatron's cheekplating twitched. "Let's have a moment."

"...A moment, master?"

"The ones that we're not allowed to have as Decepticons."

"Oh, no-"

"There's no one around. Our reputations will remain intact."

"Bu-"

Megatron crushed Starscream in a bear hug.

The setting sun set a romantic backdrop. The crushed ice-cream van tinkled its rasping, tuneless dirge. The cameras snapped feverishly-

What? Fangirls-!

Megatron hissed and rolled over, pinning Starscream beneath him.

They screamed happily from their hot air balloon.

"_Such_ **_dominance_**!"

"_He's so **dreamy** and **masterful**!"_

"_Holy_ _frag_," Starscream muttered, terrified, trying to hide behind his leader's bulk.

Megatron punched him. "Any more out of you, and **_I'll CRUSH YOU PROPERLY_**."

These last words were spoken overly loudly for the balloon's benefit.

The humans sighed unhappily, and settled back into their primitive '_aircraft'_- if it could even be called such a thing.

"He was just crushing him? Half killing him?"

"DARN! I thought I'd finally have something for my yaoi!"

Megatron and Starscream both sighed in relief as the Balloon of Doom floated away.

"Good move, my liege."

"I blame you for this."

"_Some things never change_," Starscream sighed very quietly.

"So, there will be a fitting punishment," Megatron continued, in his patented ominous –yet mercilessly cheerful- manner. "I finally have an idea for the infiltration."

"Y-you do?"

"_Yeeeassss_. In case of this plan failing, like they generally do when they have your input, we shall need disguises. And I have suitable ideas."

"Ri-" Starscream ran that statement through his processor again, actually taking note this time. "When do the plans I help you with fail?"

"When you're involved."

"Whaaat?"

Megatron suddenly wielded a paintbrush threateningly.

"_Holy_- what are you doing?"

"Disguises, my dear Starscream."

_Uhoh_. _'My dear'_ never came before anything good. Starscream smirked, spotting a flaw. "This paintbrush is useless without paint, O magnificent Megatron."

"Good thing I have some, eh?" Megatron produced a container from nowhere.

Starscream realised he may have smirked too soon. He quivered. "Where in the Pit did you get those from?"

"You don't want to know."

"_We dooooooo_!" chorused the distant humans.

"And look!" Megatron wisely ignored them and produced more paint. "Different colours!" He gained a sudden sadistic, humoured look. "Now, stay _very_ still."

This order was moot: it wasn't as if Starscream could move anyway, with Megatron still on top of him.

He gulped helplessly.

* * *

A/N: I'm assuming that Transformers, being _super-advanced_ (:D), would generally not crash unless under pressurised circumstances: e.g. opposite faction chasing them.

That's the reason for Jazz's reaction to Jetfire's. I just love the idea of him not understanding.

Poor Screamer, eh? He's having the worst day(s) ever.

Ho HUM. Leave me a review with your thoughts (especially on the new twins)! xD


	10. Chapter 10

Okay, here we are again! xD

Apologies for the slow update, but I've been doing lots of things like organising another trip to see ROTF. _Research_ for a fic (naturally).

I might not be able to get a chapter up for a while, but I'll try my hardest- I have a busy week coming up. My cousins are coming to stay. :P

Anyway! Chapter Ten! Like, WOW. This prompts a thank you to all you reviewers. You're beautiful, you're beautiful.

* * *

Perched on a cabinet, Jazz swung his legs merrily. Ratchet had scowled his way off to check on Jetfire a while back, and Prowl was recharging, a tiny smile on his faceplates.

The silver mech hopped to the ground and peeked outside.

Optimus was still flat out on the floor. Ratchet had forgotten he was there- how, he didn't know-, and Jazz himself couldn't move him somewhere more convenient than the middle of the corridor. He barely came up to the mech's knee, for Primus' sake.

Jazz returned to his cabinet with a sigh. Prowl jolted awake, optics snapping open.

"Ah, sorry, Prowler...! Didn't mean t-"

"Someone is in _direct contradiction_ of Rule 15."

You just didn't question Prowl's mysteriously innate and accurate ability to _know_. Jazz had been caught out many times by this instinct.

Pursing his lips, Jazz refreshed his memory.

_Rule 15_

_No fighting. Anywhere, for any reason._

_P.S. Arcee, this includes, for lack of a better word, 'cat-fights'. This encompasses slapping, clawing, yanking, and, Primus forbid, **gouging**. Yes, I am picking you out, but that's because you are the only one who actually **does** these things. Do I sound like I give a frag if this sounds slightly sexist? _

_P.P.S. A worthwhile and genuine excuse, Hot Rod, is not: "Bumblebee rolled his optics at me." _

_Rule 15b_

_No using your comrades as target practice._

_P.S. **Ironhide.**_

Prowl didn't like the way that Jazz's grin had suddenly frozen. "You know who it is?"

"What's the bet that it's Sunny and Sides?"

The black and white groaned. "Likely."

"...Especially considering Mudflap and Skids have returned."

"Jazz! You let them go, _knowing_ that they'd run into those two?"

"I didn't know!"

"They _always _do!"

A loud crash suddenly distracted them.

"_Woah_!"

"Who put Prime here? There should be a sign, or something."

Said mech suddenly spoke. "Will you _get off_...?"

Prowl and Jazz watched as the twins entered, followed by a sleepy-looking Optimus.

"Why were you recharging on the floor?" Sides asked.

"You were supposed to be watching Prowlie! And besides, you could have ruined-"

Optimus attempted to defend himself. "I was already on the floor, so-"

Jazz raised an optic ridge. "You didn't think it would be comfier on a berth?"

"Well, I couldn't-"

Ratchet bustled in. "You were recharging on the _floor?!_"

"Well, the sedative wore off, and-"

"Your energy levels are low," the CMO interrupted, scanning him. "And your anxiety and stress levels indicate-"

Optimus shut his optics, and a low growl escaped him, shuddering through his frame. "I am _fine. _Never better. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe-"

The twins handed over their data-pads very quickly. Prime didn't look like a mech to be messed with at this point.

Ratchet narrowed his optics dangerously. "You're over-working yourself. If this continues, I'll have to take _action_."

Not particularly interested in having to listen to Ratchet fuss over their commander, the twins turned to the other occupant of the room. "So Jazz- no one came in?"

The silver mech thought. "No, besides Ratchet."

"No one came in and delivered him any... W O R K?"

"Definitely not." It was the truth, in a way. No one had actually _entered_ the room and given him work. Jazz was in the room originally.

"And he didn't manage to escape and get any?"

"Nope."

"Did he mention the _word_?" It was whispered, as if Prowl couldn't hear.

"Nope." This was true, also. Prowl hadn't said anything.

Sunny gasped with joy. Sideswipe jumped on Prowl's berth and hugged him in delight. "Oh, Prowlie...!"

"We knew you had it in you-"

"You've started to beat your addiction-"

"It just goes to show, that we're the best-"

"You can't give up now, Prowlie. You have to keep at it-"

"We'll stand by you, so you definitely won't fall-"

"_WE'RE SO PROUD OF YOU, PROWLIE_!" the twins wailed happily, squeezing him from either side of the berth in one giant hug.

Prowl cringed guiltily, and his optics met Jazz's, who looked away, whistling.

Looking back at the attached mechs, he saw a slight dent in Sunny's armour. Sides had a small scratch on his arm.

"Twins," Prowl began, optics narrowing _just_ like Ratchet's. "Have you got something to tell me?"

Sunstreaker stiffened, and replied to the ceiling. "Noo, we haven't, have we, Sides?"

The silver brother looked up at Prowl, who was watching him very closely. "N- I'm sorry, Prowlie!" He buried his helm under the other mech's arm with a slight sob.

Sunny sighed. _Good one, bro._

_I can't lie to him, Sunny! His gaze bore through me! _

_...His gaze **bore** through you._

_I don't see **you** looking straight at him, _his twin sniffled.

Sunstreaker pouted. _It can't be that bad. _He looked at Prowl. On seeing the older mech's expression, he twitched once, then drooped miserably. "Sorry, Prowlie. We couldn't help it."

"Was it the other twins?" Prowl asked.

They nodded.

"What was it this time?"

Sides looked up, hopefully. "We- we did walk away, at first-"

"And then they crossed the line." Sunny wasn't going to pretend he wasn't angry.

"They _crossed the line_." His twin was equally passionate.

"They crossed the line, Prowlie, the _line_."

"The one line we have."

"We even took their _low, low_ hits-"

"The hit to our intelligence-"

"The hit to our pride-"

"The hit to our interfacing abilities-"

"Which, by the way, are _perfectly-_"

"Twins!" Prowl interrupted them. "You digress!"

Sideswipe looked miserably at his brother, who continued. "And we were walking away-"

"We were walking_ away_."

"_Away_." Prowl's helm snapped back and forth between the two like a spectator at particularly fast Wimbledon match.

"And then they crossed the line."

"The _Line_, Prowlie. The Line."

You could just hear the capital letters.

"Enough of '_the line_'! I don't even care what it was! Whatever it was, it wasn't and _isn't_ worth fighting your comrades over."

Sunny pouted. "Is too."

"Don't start the immaturity."

Sides tried to help. "But, Prowlie, _you're_ the li-"

"I don't want to hear about you fighting with the twins again, you hear me?"

Jazz nearly melted. _Prowl was the line?_ "_Awwwwww-!"_

He was given odd glances by every other occupant of the room. They clearly hadn't heard what Sideswipe had said.

Optimus made the Cybertronian equivalent of cracking his knuckles. "I'm going to have a word with some twin-shaped tic-tacs."

Jazz choked. _Who knew the boss-bot had such a witty side?_

Prowl paused in his berating. "I want them sent up here, Prime."

"Will do, Prowl."

Ratchet frowned, and opened his mouth to say something.

Optimus intervened gently. //_Not right now, Ratch. They need to work through this._//

"You've let me down, boys," Prowl said quietly.

The twins visibly wilted.

The other mechs left Team Three to it; Optimus and Jazz on a mission to find Mudflap and Skids, Ratchet to thrash Red Alert at chess.

* * *

In all honesty, it hadn't been hard to find the twins. They were limping to the medbay when Optimus descended on them, looking very ominous.

"Mudflap, Skids. It's nice to see you looking so..._ well._"

"We's tripped." Mudflap reasoned it wouldn't be good to admit to 'fighting' with the other pair of brothers.

"We's fell waaay down some stair." Skids elaborated.

"You fell down some stairs?" Optimus repeated. Somehow, he just seemed to emanate _darkness_.

"Some crazy stairs."

"Real steep. Dere were some lot of 'em."

"...Hm. Have to get that seen to. Say, Jazz, I didn't realise we even _had_ stairs on base."

"Same here, Prime. But I guess if they say they fell down these _crazy _stairs, they wouldn't be lying." The Head of Special Operations emerged from nowhere behind them, cutting off any escape route.

The twins realised they were in trouble.

"No. They wouldn't lie," the commander agreed.

//_Not when deliberately lying to or misleading a superior contradicts Rule 65,_// Prowl cut in.

How he was hearing, nobody knew.

"Not when I'm feeling so annoyed," Optimus continued darkly, taking a step towards them and looming over the unfortunate siblings.

//_I guess height can be a useful thing,_// Jazz sighed, craning his helm up to view the threatening effect properly. //_You should impose yourself on idiots more often._//

//_I'll keep that in mind._//

"'Kay, waits!" Skids gestured frantically.

"Maybe we's were fightin'!"

"With the oda' twins-"

"Dey started it!"

Optimus grabbed both twins by their scruffs, and hoisted them into the air. "Someone wants a word with you."

* * *

At the end of possibly one of the weariest orns of his life, Optimus sat down at his desk.

The instant Mudflap and Skids had been thrown into Prowl's room, Sunny and Sides had aggressively leapt up with a synchronised snarl.

Eventually, Prowl had managed to get them to sit down.

That basically summarised the 'meeting'.

The twins irritated the twins, who then irritated Prowl when they responded.

Undoubtedly, this was still happening. Prowl somehow had kept his patience, but Ratchet had demanded- _ordered_ Optimus to go and recharge, or something _nasty _would happen.

Optimus shuddered. He didn't doubt the CMO's words at all.

Before he did go to recharge, he'd do some berth-time reading. Those data-pads would be perfect.

He pulled the first one from sub-space.

The hand-writing was bold and large. It belonged to Hot Rod, according to the number of varying flourishing signatures on the first page. Optimus looked at the first question.

_Q: When you think of Bumblebee, what instantly comes to mind?_

A: _When I think of Bumblebee, I see myself at his age- so naive. A tender age. He really needs a role-model. Of course, I am a suitable candidate. I'm intelligent, courageous, dammed handsome, agile, powerful-_

Wasn't Hot Rod the same age as Bumblebee? Optimus skipped to the next question.

Q: _If you had the freedom to tell Bumblebee how you really felt about him- without consequence (e.g. you wouldn't be whacked, resented, etc), what would you say?_

A:_ I'd tell him how it is; he's fairly competent, but he doesn't aspire. He doesn't want anything for himself, as long as everyone else is happy. Mind you, he might aspire more if he wasn't so threatened by me- I mean, come on. Standing in anyone's shadow isn't fun, but my shadow's HUGE. And, he probably doesn't feel like much when he's compared with me, because I'm just-_

Optimus sighed and rubbed his nasal-plating. Perhaps he'd read Bumblebee's.

Q: _How do you feel when you're with Hot Rod?_

A: _Is this when I'm forced to be with him, or when we're fighting? Hot Rod is completely obsessed with himself. He thinks that I'm completely infatuated with him too, not to mention how inferior I am. I just think he's a bit deluded, and- _

_Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken- _

_I can't take this feeling any more-_

Optimus frowned, slightly bewildered. He'd try the next question.

Q: _What are Hot Rod's most redeeming qualities? And, following these, what are his least?_

A: _Doesn't he boast about himself enough? ...Fine, he's not a bad solider. He's an opportunist, which could swing either way. Hot Rod's faults?_

_A tough decision- _

_We might as well be strangers-_

_Pushing me away-_

_I'm struggling to get a word in, I won't say anything, cause it's not worth it, now-_

Optimus sighed. What _was_ going on? //_JAZZ!_//

//_Coming, coming, coming, coming... I am come!_///

The door slid open, revealing the mech himself.

"That was speedy, Jazz." He gestured at the source of his confusion. "...Here, look at this for me. What's he talking about?"

Jazz barely glanced at the data-pad, then snorted cheerfully. "Oh, that's 'bee for you."

"It gets worse!" The commander jabbed at the later questions.

"Use your processor, Prime...!" Jazz tapped Optimus' helm. "He's writing in lyrics."

"Of course he is- hang on, he's what?"

"Obviously he's so used t'speaking with his radio that he's writing with it."

"Fabulous."

"You're looking through the pads, eh?"

"It's going to be trickier than I had envisioned," Optimus sighed, scanning another. "I should really get this done before tomorrow."

Jazz cocked his helm. "That sounds like a plea for help."

"No, no, it's fine. You go recharge."

"Nah. This sounds much more interesting. 'sides, Ratchet will _kill_ you if you stay up too late. This'll be quicker with two amazing processors on th'job."

Optimus smiled. "Thank you, Jazz."

"...Oh, you owe me. Big time." Jazz threw himself on the berth. "Hurl me some pads," he ordered.

The commander did so.

"Tally-ho. Sunny."

"I have Sideswipe."

"Lucky you... right, Sunny's first question. '_Do you look up to Sideswipe?' _Answer: '_No, he's the same height as me'." _Jazz paused, pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. _"_Well- it's th'truth, I suppose."

Prime decided to read out one of Sideswipe's. "'_What does Sunstreaker do in his spare time?'_

_'He does what I do. Generally prank on bots. Ooh, once, we were in the ventilation shafts, and we discovered this brilliant way to spy on the labs. Problem is, there's this huge mass of wiring that pokes out- due to our previous hijacking of some security cameras- so you have to be careful not to get tangled. Bumblebee did, and we spent **ages** untangling him. Then Wheeljack nearly blew us sky high- luckily, Hot Rod got in the way and took the blast for us. Love the guy.'" _He winced, lowering the datapad. "Have you anything _normal_ for Sunstreaker?"

Jazz bit his lip. "It kind of goes downhill from there."

"How so?"

Jazz tossed the pad to him. "Check it out."

Optimus twitched upon sight of the document. "Tell you what; we'll scan though them all and make a pile for the bots who have to redo their questions, and then a pile of safe pads. Then we can go through them properly tomorrow."

"I hear you, boss. Is Sides in the clear?"

The flamed mech read out another answer in response. "'_Does Prowl enjoy any reckless and/or unusual activities?'_

_'Prowl's most suicidal activity is probably his constant defiance to Ratchet's medical advice to **stop working**. His most reckless is likely to be chasing me and Sunny. Haha...! I just remembered this time when we convinced Lennox that Prowlie was Barricade's twin brother, and both had a fetish for authority. Prowlie got the **weirdest** looks ever. Not to mention that no one would tell him why every single human started to avoid him. Unfortunately, **someone** told Sam that this wasn't true. Not sure who this could have been (**Bumblebee**), and then Prowlie was** really, really** annoyed. You can always tell when Prowlie's really fragged. He calls us 'twins'- otherwise, he calls us 'boys'. I **think** he's being affectionate."_

Jazz pursed his lips. "At least he's actually answering the questions."

"True. A little bit side-tracked, but he is. Right, he can go on the safe pile."

"Okey-dokes. Jetfire should have some literate answers, at least."

"I'll do Arcee, then."

//_NO ONE IS GOING TO BE DOING ME, WHOEVER YOU ARE! YOU SEXIST PIECE OF SCRAP! I'M GOING TO-_//

"At least she can't tell who's saying these offensive comments," Optimus regarded the document, placing his feet on the table.

"Yet." Jazz rolled onto his back, and activated his magnetic ability. The data-pad floated above his helm. There was silence for a minute. "I think Jetfire kind of... had a stuck record."

"How so?"

"His responses aren't very varied- and he's only got one answer for Arcee."

"Ah, he should have extra time. He's in the Med-Bay, remember?"

Jazz nodded, and chucked the pad onto the redo pile. "How's Arcee's pad?"

"_'How do you view Ironhide?' _

_'I hope this question isn't inferring that I should feel towards him, because I'm a femme. Femmes don't have to be sensitive and soppy towards mechs. Especially sexist ones like **him**._

_'And Jetfire?' _

_'...So, if I don't feel anything towards one of my 'comrades', then I should feel something for another? Do I **have** to be helm-over-wheels in love with SOMEONE?'_"

Jazz winced. "Surely it gets better?"

"'_Does Ironhide enjoy any reckless and/or unusual activities?' _

_'Are you implying that I should care, because I'm a femme? Or maybe, you're implying that **because **I am a femme, that I should find some activities more dangerous than a mech? I refuse to answer this question.' _"

"Any better than that?"

"There's being optimistic, and then there's being futilely hopeful."

"Do you reckon it's even worth asking her to redo it?"

Prime's reply was to throw the pad onto the safe pile.

"Ratchet's up now," Jazz announced.

"That must mean I have Red Alert," Optimus deduced, picking up the last pad. "'_What does Ratchet like to do in his spare time_?'

'_Ratchet enjoys practicing throwing heavy tools around. Usually they collide with me, but I'm sure that these frequent occasions are accidents_. _He also likes developing his vocabulary to further insult his patients, and likes to laugh at 'barbaric' human medical treatments that he discovers on their internet, sometimes sharing them with me. I must admit, some of the practices are rather illogical._'"

Jazz raised an optic ridge. "Sounds like medics have fun lives. Ratchet's first question was '_What is Red Alert?_'"'

"And his reply?"

The saboteur paused. "_'Red Alert is like rust. Although at first unwanted and a hindrance, eventually he grows on you and becomes familiar. And always appears in the most random places._' "

Optimus scratched his helm. "Not the _most_ insulting thing I've ever heard Ratchet come out with."

"Sounds bizarre t'me," Jazz replied. "An' many of the other answers are jus' as complicated. Th'guy seems t'speak a different language."

"Maybe he's doing it on purpose, so we can't tell what he's really saying."

Both mechs considered this possibility. "I think we should plan out this meeting f'tomorrow."

"Agreed."

* * *

"And look! Moustaches!" Megatron unveiled the rest of the 'disguises' dramatically.

Starscream scowled.

"Come now," the tyrant admonished, "Stop your sulking."

Starscream pouted.

"It's not so bad!" Megatron then promptly ruined this statement with an evil giggle. "Who am I kidding? It's a punishment. Get used to it."

Starscream buried his helm in his hands. He was going to be a laughing stock.

Megatron turned away. "We will infiltrate the base soon. All we need-" He turned back to a moody Seeker. "All we need-" He broke off in another giggle upon seeing Starscream and his painting handiwork.

"Do you realise how much I hate you?"

Megatron's lips twitched.

"You've ruined my chances of ever getting a femme."

"_Never mind! You have us, you sexy, sexy mech!_" the humans squealed faintly.

Megatron snorted with derision.

"You've ruined my life."

Megatron stuffed his fingers in his mouth to try and stop laughing.

Starscream stamped away with a final screech. "THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"

Megatron removed his fingers with a wince. "These are _sharp_!"

_

* * *

_

Don't you love Megatron's pointy, sharp design? I honestly believe the age rating for ANY Megatron toy should be higher than any other. He's just... um, jagged.

As my friend said in the cinema, whilst regarding a Megatron lollipop: "Oh, look, he's got a little _dangly_ thing!" [This being his **area**.]

...What could I say? We then spent the rest of the advert-time checking out different interfacing panels, picking our favourites.

Never mind; the next two chapters should make up for this exceedingly short Megatron/Starscream section.

Ah well. Review me, because it makes me smile! Let me know how you _feeeeel_! (And, if you do, Starscream _may_ let you see the new colour of his paintwork.)

And, it's about two in the morning, so please tell me about the lack of any grammar or spelling, if you see any.

I'll love you if you do.

_Till next update! _xD


	11. Chapter 11

Today I'm going to issue myself a challenge (I feel like Hot Rod, all of a sudden). I feel good about this.

In a review, include a line/scenario that you'd like to hear/see me write, and I'll actually try my hardest to include it.

I do have limits, though. I can't randomly envisage a scenario where sixteen humans and an emperor penguin debate the ethics behind seal-clubbing.

Well, apparently I _can_, because I have just now- but keep it on topic. So, no penguins.

(Actually, I'll have to take that back. The fic-father and I were _thought-showering_ the other day, and we had some **wacky** ideas. If penguins are your style, _go for it._)

This is one of those stupid chapters where nothing much happens, because I planned this out very lamely. A plan-? I have one? News to me. :P

In this first section, Bumblebee's radio is the normal, not-italiced font. Unitaliced? Nonitaliced? WHO KNOWS

Oh, last thing. The phrase 'hormonal femme' is used near the end of the chapter. I realise that Cybertronians do not work like humans do, but I can't think of a comparison. So, femmes are hormonal. Sorry, Arcee, but I'm sure most of the Autobots would agree.

* * *

_It was a beautiful day. The sun shone on the gentle waters of the tranquil lake, and the peace remained undisturbed for miles._

_Well, that depended on your point of view, but Bumblebee didn't find the varying shrieks from the water disturbing._

_A wriggling, squirming Sam was currently being given the biggest nougie of his life by Lennox, who was being threatened by Ratchet. The medic was hopping along the water's edge, waving his arms frantically._

_"The boy could drown! A little water into his lungs, and-"_

_"Shall I retrieve him, sir?"_

_"DO SO, RED ALERT! AND QUICKLY! BEFORE ONE OF THE SIXTY-FOUR HARMFUL **DETECTABLE** BACTERIA ENTERS HIS INTERNAL SYSTEMS AND-"_

_A new voice joined the fray. "I saw you, Sam! If you eye up your bikinied girlfriend **one** more time-"_

_Jetfire was chewing his fingers and shaking his helm nervously._

_"Get on with it, Jetfire," Ironhide scowled, already in and growling as the water touched a cannon. "RATCHET! WILL THIS WATER-"_

_"NO!" the CMO yelled back. "YOUR CANNONS ARE FINE!"_

_The shuttle dipped a foot carefully into the lake but immediately hopped backwards as he felt the water. Ironhide watched him worriedly. _

_Jetfire's optics suddenly grew very bright. "The properties of this compound... all the scientific possibilities!"_

_Suitably relieved, Ironhide busied himself firing air out of his cannons at unsuspecting targets._

_Jazz was perched on a rock protruding from the middle of the lake, sunning himself. This seemed appropriately unsuspecting._

_Bumblebee watched as Ironhide narrowed his optics, raised his right cannon, and blasted the silver mech._

_Jazz squawked, arms thrashing around helplessly and fell into the water, where Sunny and Sides dived on him._

_"Boys! Stop!" Prowl ordered from the land._

_"Come stop us, Prowlie!"_

_Prowl sighed a long and weary sigh. "No."_

_The twins immediately charged towards him. "The water's fine!"_

_"That's as may be, but I'm fine here."_

_"Please, Prowlie?"_

_"Pleaaaase?"_

_"No! I'm staying here."_

_"Jus' cause he a pussy," Mudflap announced from the sidelines._

_Sides turned, snarling, and Sunny rolled his shoulders threateningly._

_"Wait, wait," Prowl rubbed his chevron wearily, seeing no other solution. "If you restrain yourself from pounding them, I'll come in."_

_The resulting cheer could probably have been heard on Cybertron._

_"...Chevron-three, encoded!"_

_Bumblebee watched all this happily. Someone gently knuckled his helm, and he looked up to see his commander smiling down at him proudly._

_"Times like these remind us of what we fight for, Bumblebee."_

_He agreed with a chirp. They stood for a moment. Optimus suddenly smirked devilishly._

_"_fst_- _impending doom- I wonder what you've got conspired_-_?_"_

_Prime paused. "I bet that you can't get Arcee into the water."_

_"_I don't feel like touching her no more_..."_

_Two words emerged from the older mech's vocal processor, words that Bumblebee had never imagined him saying. "...**Dare you**."_

_Bumblebee shook his helm, straightened with honour- and strode into the water, not quite believing that he was actually heading towards the pink femme. He contemplated strategies. What could he do? He could ask, certainly. He could even blow her into the water using his superior weaponry or strength. Not that he'd ever say that aloud. He had a little sense, unlike **some** Autobots. _

_He commed someone who could help. //Ironhide, fancy using those cannons of yours?//_

_//What kind of question **is** that, Bumblebee?//_

_//Can you do me a favour? Blow Arcee off of her rock. She has to land **in** the water. //_

_Bumblebee could see Ironhide weigh up this request._

_Darn; he was taking too long. He wasn't going to do it. Mind you, it would be suicide, so he couldn't be blame-_

_A giant pocket of air blazed by him. Unfortunately, the femme somehow dodged the shot, and crowed. "Haha! Ironhide, your aim is path-"_

_Bumblebee gathered all of his courage and leapt at her, successfully knocking her into the water._

_At the same time, Sunny and Sides dragged Prowl onto the rocks. "CONQUERED! OFFICIAL FORT OF TEAM THREE!"_

_Immediately, Prowl began to delegate. "Sunny, you're on look-out. Sideswipe, you need to start gathering; we need defences. That large rock over there would be a good start."_

_The twins whooped with delight._

_Optimus howled with laughter as Arcee rose from the water, spluttering._

_Bumblebee squirted water from his mouth with a giggle, which quickly died as Arcee came towards him menacingly._

_She came very close. Too close._

_She grasped his shoulders, and pulled him even closer._

_Bumblebee twitched in fear. "_HELP_!"_

_"It's okay! I'm here in all my amazing, shiny glory," she replied._

_With a frown, Bumblebee tried to pull away, but she was holding him too tightly, and he couldn't move-_

_Was this what it was like to be Starscream? He felt a sudden wave of sympathy._

_"Hey, Bumblebee..." she purred. "What are you doing?"_

_Bumblebee gulped, and worked his processor. He wanted OUT of the situation- the only way to get her off of him could be to actually repulse her. And there was one sure-fire way to do this._

_He leaned in, gently stroked her chestplates, leaned in to kiss her-_

And woke up with a gasp. Bumblebee took one look at his surroundings, and cringed. No lake, and, thankfully, no Arcee. But a problem presented itself immediately.

Kneeling on top of him was Hot Rod, who was giving him a Look. Fully awakening, Bumblebee realised his hand was resting on the other mech's flamed chassis.

"Uh, Bumblebee? I know these chest plates are pretty darn hot, but... I didn't think you rolled that way."

"_What have I done to deserve this?_" Bumblebee quickly moved his hand.

"You were muttering things and flailing around, so I thought I'd come check up on you. And when I did, you grabbed me. Roughly, I might add."

"_I'm sorry..."_

Hot Rod shrugged, modestly. "It's okay. For a mech of my calibre, it was nothing much. Anyway; I attempted to restrain you from floundering off of the berth, and then you started touching me."

_"I'm on my knees-"_

Hot Rod exhaled noisily. "I guess you were dreaming, but to be honest, I don't really want to know what of."

Bumblebee frowned suddenly. "_...still I look, to find a reason-fst-in my room?_"

"I heard you, remember?"

"_...so far away?_"

"I was, um, just walking by your room. ...Just shut up, or I'll tell everyone you touched me."

_"Why don't we...fst- forget?"_

"Already forgotten, trust me." Hot Rod climbed off of the yellow mech and sprang to his feet.

Bumblebee stretched and rolled off of his berth.

"Prime's called a meeting later," Hot Rod declared.

"_What must we do...?_"

"Attend-?" The mech shrugged. "I don't know what it's about. Probably handing out commendations for the best data-pads. And, I think- no! I _know_ I'm in the running."

"_Can't think why-_"

As expected, Hot Rod continued oblivious. "So, I suppose we should go, arrive early to get the best seats- ah, but at the same time, perhaps a more dramatic entrance would be achieved by arriving after everyone else. Arriving- not late, no, but _fashionably on_ _time._"

Bumblebee was sure that if Hot Rod put his mind to it, he could easily become a high-ranking officer. His attention to -generally unimportant- detail was impeccable. He'd probably be a good wedding planner.

//_Bumblebee!_//

//_Hearing you, Prime,_// the young mech responded.

//_Has Hot Rod informed you of the meeting?_//

//_Just managed to before reeling off on his usual tangent of idiocy._//

//_Ah, he likes to talk about himself. Oho! Got to go. I'm going to give Prowl some paperwork. He's officially discharged._//

He could have sworn he heard a slight giggle. Concentration returning to his room, Bumblebee rolled his optics. Hot Rod was _still_ spewing garbage.

"-although, I'm sure that if I _did_ descend from the ceiling, I'd need to be sure that I'd have an appropriately cool landing. It wouldn't be good to sprawl flat on my back. Hm. Walk with me." With a snap of the servos, Hot Rod strode away.

Bumblebee sighed and padded down the corridor after the bigger Autobot.

"Perhaps I could be lowered by some cables-"

Bumblebee's acute scout sensors were picking up sound. _Incoming_ sound. He cocked his helm, trying to pin it down. Yes, it was definitely heading this way, and _fast_.

"_Let's get out of here...!_"

"No, Bumblebee. You need to linger afterwards, so people can bask in your glow."

"YEAH! HERE WE COME!"

_Oh, Primus. _He knew _what_ was coming. There was nothing he could do, so the scout backed to the wall.

"-or maybe you're right- leaving quickly would make sure I retained a sense of mystery, and therefore would keep- ARAAAH!"

Sunstreaker charged right into Hot Rod, hurling him into the opposite wall with a sickening crack.

"COMING THROOOOUGH!"

"Holy-" Hot Rod sprang back like some demented spring, _springing_ into the middle of the corridor, straight into a heroic pose. "Ah, it's tough being the Chosen One sometimes."

Bumblebee cringed in anticipation. Luckily, he didn't have long to wait.

Sideswipe tore after his brother, shouting happily. "YEAH!"

"I CAN'T **_BELIEVE_** YOU TWO!"

These cries had surely alerted Hot Rod, who would have... moved?

Sides bashed into the flamed mech, sending him staggering to the side drunkenly, with a slight twirl.

Prowl slammed into the suddenly-in-his-way Hot Rod. "OBSTRUCTION IN THE CORRIDORS!" He quickly hurled the 'obstruction' out of his path and hurtled after the twins, shouting as he ran. "Good to see you, Bumblebee! And tell Hot Rod that I expect that report on my desk in _seven breems!_"

"_Yes, SIR!_" barked a militant human.

When the hubbub had faded somewhat and only the occasional '_If you think you're going to get away with this, **boys**_-' remained, Bumblebee looked around for his deluded partner.

"...Y'know, as much as I'm glad that Primus has chosen me, I wish he could be a little more gentle when he inspires me," Hot Rod declared, dangling from the ceiling by one leg and one arm. "But, at least I know what he's trying to tell me. He's showing me that I should enter by the door."

"_What else was there for me to do, but cry?_"

* * *

Megatron strode to the Autobot base with no air of caution. He was even humming loudly and inconsiderately. Now and then, there was a break in the psychotic, unrelenting sound as he snapped impatiently at an unhappy, trailing jet.

"_STARSCREAM_! Hurry up!"

"Why can't we just fly there? It'll be so much quicker!"

"Oooh, want to play to your strengths, eh?**_ No, _**Starscream. It's too noisy, they'll hear us."

"We're _two-hundred_ miles away!" Starscream shrieked. "You're being _**paranoid**_!"

Megatron stopped suddenly. Several feet behind, Starscream did too, unsure of what was going on.

Megatron seated himself upon a conveniently large rock, and patted the ground beside him.

Starscream tilted his helm slightly in confusion.

"You're grouchy."

Starscream scowled. "I wonder why."

"I _know_ why. I'm **Megatron**. I know _everything_."

"Oh, you do?" Starscream raised his voice with each word and stamped his foot. "Anything to do with this ridiculous colour scheme-?"

Megatron sighed. "Still on about that?"

"YES!"

The Decepticon Commander reached out and grabbed Starscream, lifting him off of his feet and throwing him roughly onto the floor in front of him.

"You're tired. Recharge. I'm not being in the company of some hormonal femme."

Starscream frowned, and opened his mouth in protest, standing up as he did so.

Megatron seized the other mech again. "I am not debating this." He deposited Starscream onto the floor more forcefully, placing a threatening foot on his chassis. The words were very final.

Scowling, Starscream- under the narrowed optics of his commander- skulked a short distance away, and curled up in a small ball.

Megatron watched Starscream until he was sure that the other mech was deep in recharge.

This presented a perfect opportunity.

Throughout the long years, punishing Starscream had become a part of life. Verbally, physically, mentally, blahblah. It happened. _Someone _had to keep him in check. And, it did feel good to punch him- but back to the point.

A particular sore spot, he had discovered, was Starscream's physical state- how he looked. For example, the painting had sent him into near shock. This had ensured obedience.

However, Megatron was now fed up of his sulking; it was really rather grating. Somewhat of a depressant: another punishment was in order. He took out his trusty paintbrush, and leant over his recharging Air Commander, deftly writing on his sensitive wing.

Starscream would have felt the gentle movements, had both he and Megatron not dulled their senses so as to avoid listening to the idiotic humans who had started to follow them in their primitive flying transport. (Their comments were getting disturbing)

With a happy sigh, Megatron reviewed his handiwork- and couldn't repress a snigger. Oh yes.

He yawned; suddenly realising he was tired too. Evil, ingenious tricks obviously took a toll on the being. Well, it wasn't like anyone was going to attack them- he was _Megatron_, after all. Recharging wasn't going to be a problem.

* * *

Starscream awoke from recharge and uncurled from his ball, stretching. He looked round for Megatron as he flexed his wings, and found him very close by, recharging on the floor.

Megatron didn't recharge gracefully, but this was no great surprise. He sprawled across the ground on his front, limbs at odd angles. It looked rather painful, actually.

Starscream eyed his recharging commander, when a thought crossed his processor. There wasn't going to be another opportunity like this- this would be the only time Megatron's senses would not pick up anything. It could not be wasted.

What could he do...? He looked around for inspiration. Ah, that Paintbrush! What was it doing over there? It had come from the Pit, Starscream was sure. It was _horrible_.

He cringed as he picked it up between thumb and index talons. He should destroy the wicked thing- or maybe not. Megatron was very attached to it; he might get very, very angry. It _hurt_ that The Paintbrush meant more to Megatron than Starscream did.

The Seeker crouched by his leader with a sigh, intending to leave The Paintbrush by him.

Before he could do this, a mischievous grin crossed his faceplates, followed by a snigger. It seemed that Megatron could do with a little _decoration_.


	12. Chapter 12

Wahey! Here we are again!

Just to let you know, there's a slight AU bit going on here. Mind you, the whole fic is AU, but whatever.

Just _pretend_ for me that the Autobot base is surrounded by some cliffs. I kind of envisaged their base (for a different fanfic of mine) _aaaages_ before ROTF came out, so it's not really like Diego Garcia.

Just roll (er... or fly) with me. It'll make me very happy. And it'll mean that Starscream and Megatron can actually proceed with their _plan_. And of course, we want this to happen, don't we?

Thank you for your ideas- I really, really enjoyed reading through them! So much, in fact, that there will have to be another one of those sometime soon.

I've been checking up and editing my, uh, plot page to see where everything will fit in. So, a shout out to the awesome ideas.

**I can safely say that those fantastic Fail Train lines WILL definitely make an appearance. ****CuriousDreamWeaver****, you're amazing. I laughed SO hard.**

**Crossfire1205****, I'm sure that Optimus is reaching his limits. He'll endeavour to get his own back- heh, thanks to you.**

**And wow. Clumsy Peg, I've told you you have the power of foresight. Incredible lines, there. xD**

**Yeek. Baby Bumblebee? ****Captain Arianna Trouble****, you know how to make my life tricky! I have actually rearranged the plot for you. But I've done it, because I love your fic so much...! (squee)**

**And LovelyIAmNot, Megatron's perfect that way. :D Mwhah! Hmm, squishy children. Heheh. I'm sure this will sneak in somewhere.**

And, as you can probably tell, our two different stories are coming together. How thrilling. :D

Hope you enjoy! And, before I forget, this chapter is dedicated to any of you guys waiting on your exam results, like me. Pff. Good luck!

(P.S. There be a reference in this chapter, arr. It be marked by (*). I couldn't help throwing it in. If any of you recognise it, I pity you. Share your sorrow in a review.)

* * *

It had been coming; they had been warned. And yet none of them had prepared (be it due to injury or sheer laziness). It was only now most of them were regretting this brash decision. In all honesty, all of the Autobots had actually forgotten, but this was no acceptable excuse. They had either not listened or remembered, and now they would pay the price. Prime had not called a meeting at random, no.

It had only been mentioned casually in passing conversation about four cycles before. Stimulating utter shock- _it could not be!-_, this sudden reminder passed around the entire base faster than Ratchet hurling a wrench at some (un)deserving bot. Faster, even, than a defiant Starscream losing his nerve. (Yes, that fast.) And then they had remembered.

Oh yes, they had remembered.

Yes, readers. It was (apparently) the day of the written test. Nerves were suddenly hyper-sensitive, tempers lost without warning, tension was peaking, stress levels high. It hadn't been this bad since Ratchet and Arcee had both had a hissy-fit at the same time. You couldn't even _twitch_ without being physically or mentally assaulted. This internal 'siege' lasted an entire week- there was only so long even Hot Rod would last as an efficient living shield. Especially when being used by everyone. Ratchet had finally ceased his tantrum _because_ of Hot Rod, so some credit had to be given to him. More, however, was given to Red Alert, who had bravely -and loudly- declared that _he_ would treat Hot Rod's multiple wounds.

The remaining cycles until the exam had been crammed full of revision, whichever style worked best; individually, with a partner, reading up on varying topics, or experimenting with new and dangerous substances.

They were as prepared as they were going to get. As per instruction, everyone had lined up outside the Room of Doom, waiting- some more nervously than others.

"It'll be easy," Sunny announced suddenly.

"No sweat," Sideswipe confirmed, nodding confidently.

Prowl whirled around, and brandished a finger threateningly. "You can't say that! **One; **you haven't even _tried_ to prepare for this, **two**; your cockiness _will_ be your undoing, and **three; ** you haven't even _seen _the test- you have _no idea_ what the content will be- so you have _no idea _if it will be 'easy' or not! And, it shouldn't even _need _to be mentioned, but obviously you delinquents must be reminded. Rule 42."

"Go on, Prowlie. Tell us, you know you want to."

"Look it up yourselves," the second snarled.

Sideswipe winced. He wasn't even sure if he'd looked at this book before.

The golden twin tried to stop a smirk. The rule book had been inspiration for a good many pranks- he was familiar with it. He would even go so far as call it one of his better friends, to Prowl's great shock.

_Rule 42_

_If ever there is an event to test your skills, there is to be no cheating._

_P.S. This includes taking credit for other bots ideas._

_P.P.S No using sparkbonds to communicate!_

_P.P.P.S. Twins, this includes **your** bond. Do **not** trade answers. I'll know if you do._

The twins considered this thought. Briefly. "Nah."

"A _doddle_."

"Don't worry, you can copy our answers too, Prowlie. What are teams for?"

"The orn I need to- or _want_ to copy _your_ answers is the orn I resign as Second in Command, defect to the Decepticons, and prostate myself in front of Megatron, swearing not only allegiance, but undying _love_," the black and white hissed.

"Woah."

"You can't leave us, Prowlie!" Sideswipe gasped.

"PROWLIE'S RESIGNING!" his twin bellowed.

"Oh, Primus." Prowl turned around, presenting the brothers with his back. Irate doorwings were stiffly held, pure willpower not enough to keep them quivering slightly.

"...I _know_ I've got it now. One quick test, sir."

Ratchet scowled. "Fine. But you do realise this test probably has nothing to do with our glorious profession?"

"Everyone has a specialist subject."

"Very well." The CMO paused and sucked his cheek. "Let's make this more interesting. A _human_ is in dire need of medical attention."

"A human." Red Alert cocked his helm, processor immediately adapting to the information.

"Let's say it's Sam. He has been involved in some traffic incident-"

"_Hey; I'd protect him!_"

"Let's say he _wasn't_ with Bumblebee," Ratchet continued. "And he's suffering from minor contusions to fractured and/or broken limbs. He's in a lot of pain, and these wounds could be fatal, if not treated very soon-ah, wait! You're in his home town, and you're also being attacked by two Decepticons who have conveniently arrived."

Red Alert considered this situation and tried to avoid looking at Bumblebee's horrified face. "How long until back-up?"

"Ten minutes."

"If they did not cause the injuries, have the Decepticons come to specifically target Sam?"

"They have."

"Abduction...? Right; I'll assume that there are many civilians in the immediate area. One course of action would be to get Sam, and head towards the nearest allies. I would be able to treat some wounds whilst he is inside of me."

"Yet you put yourself at the mercy of the much faster 'cons."

"Who, if they were trying to take Sam alive, would not- one supposes- endanger him."

"_You gotta get past me to get to him!_"

"Bumblebee! Will you stop? This is a complex scenario!" Ratchet breathed deeply through his nasal plating. "Right. We'll save that one for later."

Red Alert scratched his helm. Ratchet narrowed his optics. He knew that look. "You want _another_? Fine. Here we go: Sunstreaker struts into the medbay-"

"I would place this under the trick category section. You would wish me to answer that I would abuse him in some way-"

"Perfect answer."

Jazz glared down the line in his most frosty manner. He stalked menacingly down the corridor- but _slowly, slowly. _ Making sure everyone was on their toes. He brushed by Red Alert, sidled by Sideswipe. Took an extra long second to narrow his optics at Prowl. He wouldn't antagonise Jetfire. The poor shuttle was visibly quaking, optics shut tightly, silently mouthing complicated theorems.

"That narrowed optics expression. How does he do that?"

"Huh?" Sideswipe was confused.

"He has a visor, for Primus' sake."

"YOU!" Jazz barked, whipping out a cane from subspace. "Silence in this line. There will be no chances to cheat."

"We haven't even seen the test yet!"

"Do I look like that matters?" Jazz demanded, each word accompanied by a thrust of the helm. Sunny's vision has filled with glowing blue and a demented smile. "Face the front," Jazz ordered darkly after a decidedly brief staring contest.

Hot Rod was checking to see if he was the tallest in the line-up. He stiffened and gulped as Jazz, dragging his cane along his victims' shoulders, prowled past in a manner not unlike Ratchet eyeing up a particularly nasty wound on one of the twins.

**_Gleefully_**, with just a sprinkling of sadism**_._**

Or should that be, sadistically, with a healthy sprinkling of glee?

Suddenly, the cane snapped out. "You there. _Yellow._ What's that in your hand?"

Bumblebee- for the unfortunate one was he- shakily held up his hand.

Jazz hurled his most offensive look at the device nestled in his palm. Lip curling, he raised this glare to Bumblebee.

"I asked you what it was, _Yellow._"

"_Old mathematics,_" the mech offered meekly.

"There is to be no equipment brought in to the exam. Hand me the device. You could be disqualified for this, _Yellow._"

Bumblebee's antennae drooped.

Whispers came from in front as bots tried to turn around discreetly, so as to glimpse who had dared be so insolent.

"_Sam_._.." _Bumblebee began, then continued with a voiceclip of the teenager. Evidently Sam had heard about the test and decided he had to help._ '''bee, there's no way you'll pass through without one of these. I mean, my teacher pleaded with me to remember mine for my exam- yeah, I mean, I know that I never had it in class, Mikaela, but it's not the point- if you must know, I lent it to Miles- and you can't just demand it back! Why? You just can't, Mikaela. It's against our creed. No, I'm-'"_

"Enough excuses, _Yellow. This_ is coming with me. Be lucky- you've gotten off lightly."

"_Cold mathematics; it's making its move on me now-_"

Jazz slapped a sticker onto the item, and dropped it into a large bucket. It clanged menacingly. "Here. Collect the device afterwards; take its respective tag."

Bumblebee reached out, but Jazz slapped the sticker onto his chassis. The yellow mech looked down at the sticker, which read: 'CHEATING SCUMBAG'.

Optimus, rubbing an optic, arrived at the scene. Jazz strode to his side, and spoke in a loud undertone so everyone could hear. "We're all ready, Prime."

"Good, good."

"One incident. _That _one tired to smuggle in a _calculator_."

Optimus paused, finger still in optic. "...A calculator."

Their voices then lowered. Bumblebee watched nervously as an accusing finger was jabbed his way. Both mechs glanced in his direction, then spoke earnestly.

Optimus shook his helm, to which Jazz threw his arms out dramatically.

"You realise the whole thing's set up?" Hot Rod scowled quietly.

_"T__hese are things that __I don't understand-_"

"Standing there, whispering. Attracting attention. They look far more important if they a) look busy, and b) seem to know something we don't. It places them above us, see? It's a conspiracy."

"_You must be joking, right?"_

"_YELLOW!_ I SEE YOU! Stop talking!"

Bumblebee raised his hands indignantly. "_He started it!_"

"I don't care! You shouldn't reply!" Jazz stepped forwards. "I _regret_ to inform you that this test is postponed."

"Woop!"

"YEAH!"

"YOU ARE STILL UNDER EXAM CONDITIONS!"

Optimus yawned. "Due to the abysmal conditions of some of your data-pads, some of you will have to redo them. That's why. And when I feel they are sufficient, we shall continue. Ah, wait just _one_ moment! I want to run through your answers with you in your teams."

"Say no more, Prime. I'll take it from here." Jazz stepped forwards, thrusting out an arm dramatically. This assumedly, in ideal conditions, would have been nobly flung across Optimus' chassis.

Optimus twitched as the limb was slammed into his interfacing panel. Everybody winced.

Jazz saw their expressions. "Don't worry, it won't be _that_ bad! Sure there's plenty of room for improvement... _but_-"

At this, the arm was hurled backwards for emphasis. "-There's always room f'improvement."

Optimus closed his optics and bit his lip as some kind of response to the second blow.

The short mech sighed enthusiastically. "Team One! You're up first."

Arcee suddenly shrieked. "Mechs! All the same! No pain threshold _whatsoever_! And just because I don't have an interfacing cable- thank _Primus_- if I get hit down there, it apparently _can't_ hurt as much as it does you-"

Ironhide rolled his optics. "Of _course_ it doesn't._"_

Jetfire groaned. "Why must you walk- no, _charge_ headlong into these arguments?"

Optimus left them to it and entered the room with only a slight hobble to show for his pain.

Ratchet sighed at him. "You okay?"

The large mech nodded, wincing.

"C'mere, kid. I'll have a look."

Optimus cringed his way over to Ratchet, who inspected the panel. "You'll be fine. Now get on with this Primus forsaken meeting."

Red Alert knelt down to observe the panelling. "It looks a little-"

"He's _fine_, Red Alert! It's drama and wounded pride. And lack of recharge," the CMO added coldly.

Prime winced. This could be painful.

* * *

_//Get a move on...!/ /_Megatron hissed.

"No."

_//Go, before you find yourself **grounded**_._// _The last word was emphasised ominously.

Starscream's wings twitched nervously, having had received this threat before.

He eyed the base- nestling quite a way below them- surrounded by the sheer walls of varying cliffs, and jumped.

Megatron watched as Starscream gracefully landed (without a sound) on a raised part of the roof.

"_Looks easy_," he muttered uneasily, edging near the drop to peek over.

Far below, the Seeker stared back up, gesturing impatiently.

Megatron scowled back at him, and gathered himself, taking a step or two back in preparation. _If **he** can do it, I, Megatron, can surely- _Nearing the edge once more, he lost his nerve. "Maybe I'll find another way down."

Starscream frowned. What in the Pit was Megatron doing?

He could see the other mech backing away from the edge, then coming forwards- stopping, then the whole process again. _Was **was** he doing?_

He felt like flying back up to see what was going on, or shouting offensive comments.

But, then again, perhaps he should be left to it. The more Starscream '_antagonised'_ him, the longer Megatron would take, so as to prove he wasn't going to be ordered around.

Additionally, he was _Megatron_. Perhaps it was a Mega-dance to bring luck to their mission or something. He sighed and settled down. This would take ages.

* * *

Megatron took stock of the situation for the sixteenth time. He would not be out-done by that... that-

A vision of Starscream materialised before him, taunting him. _Megatron, what's the hold-up? Afraid, are you?_

"I KNOW NO FEAR! I AM MEGATRON!" Megatron bellowed. "Why, you-"

He took a step forwards before realising there was nothing to step onto. His traitorous foot plunged into space.

Startled from happy recharge by a deafening roar, Starscream groaned. What was Megatron _doing_?

In no way was he going to get involved; this wasn't going to be blamed on him. Well- it probably would be, but it wouldn't be justified in any way. Hearing a sudden scream- definitely not one of his own (although _nearly_ a challenge to his crown)- he opened his optics. Perhaps some humans had committed suicide?

From his reclining position, Starscream could make out a large mass hurtling downwards through the darkness.

Frowning, he sat up. The scream grew louder as the shape drew closer.

Starscream watched with detached interest as the mass plummeted by the roof, and the shrieking quietened again- then ceased abruptly.

Perhaps Megatron had been impaled on some aerial.

For the want of something to do, the Seeker wandered over to the edge, and peered over.

Megatron clung to the roof, by one claw, with a scowl. "Help me up, Starscream."

"...No."

"NO?! Do it!"

"No!" Starscream pouted, folding his arms defiantly. "You're too mean to me."

"No, I'm not. Do it _now_, or I'll beat on you."

"You got yourself into this mess."

"Your job is to _help_ me, you cretin."

"Which you don't let me do, even when I try!"

Megatron hissed dangerously. "You have five seconds."

"I'll tell everyone you scream like a human insect!" Starscream yelped desperately, backing away.

Megatron froze. "...What?"

Action was necessary. Now. Right that second. Immediately.

Megatron hauled himself up and launched himself at his Air Commander.

* * *

Five minutes later, a somewhat less defiant Starscream cringed at his feet.

"It was probably a human," Megatron announced. "He must have seen me, thought: _AHHH, Megatron, the mighty, undefeated_-"

There was a loud shriek from somewhere inside the base. Such was the power behind it; it vibrated through the roof.

"Who dares interrupt **_Megatron_**?"

_The mighty, undefeated Megatron who cannot even land on a roof_, a tiny part of Starscream's processor cackled dangerously. _Could he have a bigger target-_

The rest of Starscream's processor quickly squashed this thought, before it became known to Megatron. That could be painful.

Megatron eyed Starscream, who was scowling miserably.

_Primus, not again_. He looked around, fuming quietly, and saw a human climbing the cliff about half a mile away.

"**Joy**_...! Stay_ _here. _"

Megatron powered up his engines- forgetting the whole _sneaking_ _in silence_ idea, and blasted towards the male.

"Crikey!" The man spotted him. "You're one ugly b-"

He was grabbed in a reciprocally rude fashion from the rock face.

Megatron hovered above the Autobot base, and spoke to the disgusting thing very quietly. "Scream like a little- girl, and I'll let you live."

"You're a _fine_ on-" (*)

Megatron squeezed the man gently. The human screamed immediately.

Megatron giggled, and squeezed again, prompting another scream.

He could do this _all_ day. Maybe this was why Optimus liked humans. They were _fun._

He squeezed once more before realising Starscream was watching him oddly. Obviously it was less fun to watch.

The man squealed.

"Right. Err, good stuff." Megatron remembered that Optimus spoke to them nicely. Maybe this would get him somewhere, as the insect was obviously not built of sturdy substances or was intelligent enough for violence to be of any help.

Starscream, far below, scowled.

"Now, do it again-"

The man wailed.

"Not now, you little-" Megatron rubbed his nasal plating, sighed and dropped the human with a shake of the helm.

The man fell silently.

"IMBECILE!" Megatron roared.

The man started screaming in terror.

Starscream watched the human fall to his doom, wincing as his body bounced off of the roof with a wet squelch.

_//See, Starscream? It was the suicidal humans.//_

_//...Of course, my liege.// _

Megatron detected a slight undercurrent of doubt. He would have to-

_//My liege, you're using your thrusters,//_ his second pointed out helpfully.

Perhaps Starscream was suffering from numerous blows to the helm. _//I know, Starscream. It's called flight.//_ Megatron pointed out almost kindly, remembering that the other mech _was _suffering from numerous blows to the helm.

The Seeker shrugged. _//It's just that you're making noise. Not very conducive to the whole sneaky operation.//_

Megatron immediately cut the thrusters.

Starscream exhaled quietly as the other Decepticon plummeted and smashed – second time lucky – onto the roof.

Megatron jumped up. "See, Starscream? That's how it's done."

He promptly fell over, leg caught on something.

Starscream's hydraulics hissed wearily as he stood up, and limped his way over to Megatron's side.

"...Why, how brilliant of you, master."

Megatron preened. _Naturally_- hang on. What was brilliant? Surely Starscream wasn't mocking him _again_?

"You are _undeniably_ amazing."

Megatron seethed quietly. _This sarcasm would **have** to stop._

"You've found us a perfect way in," Starscream continued.

"Have I- Of course I have," Megatron quickly stood up, revealing a large vent that he had nearly smashed from the fall. "That was the purpose of the whole _controlled_-drop-thing. **Megatron** does not drop from the sky for no reason."

"That's some _strrrong_ vent to not break under your wide aft," Starscream breathed quietly, inspecting the vent.

Megatron's hand suddenly grasped his wing firmly. _Very _firmly. "What did you just say? And be _honest_."

"Um, that's some strong vent to not succumb to your- uh, formidable and considerable mass, my liege." Once again, Starscream regretted underestimating Megatron's audio processors.

Megatron huffed in a threatening manner. "That's _odd_, because I thought I heard you say you wanted to go _first_."

And with this, he lifted Starscream by the wing- to a furious barrage of screeches and howling- and dropped him into the shaft.

* * *

How cruel Megs is. Meanie.

I'm imagining wings on Seekers to be like the whole gerbil thing. You don't lift a gerbil by his (or her- let's not be sexist) tail.

Or a rabbit by his/her ears. _Especially_ not plot bunnies. DOOM upon you, if you dare.

And you don't lift a Seeker by his wings. That's advice for you, if you ever come across a Seeker. And if you can actually lift him.

Hm. Well, until next update, hope you have fun! xD


	13. Chapter 13

EXCITEMENT: **ROTF comes out on DVD October 20th**. xD

Beautiful people, we've hit _100 _reviews! ONE HUNDRED! _CENT_! (That's about my limit in other languages, but hey.)

Because we have, I got rather excited. I present to you my _Super-Special-Awesome-Super-Long-Marathon-Chapter_. Okay, so I could have split it into two. I should have, really. I don't know. xD

Hehee. One thing I thought I might bring to your attention, wonderful readers! MS Word is being special again.

I'm not researching morbid terms this time, but when looking for synonyms again, I got another interesting result.

Good news: no longer do you need to "_enthuse_", loyal transfans! Instead, you can now "_wax lyrical_".

O_o HA! **Anyone heard of THAT one? I dare you to say you have!**

Anyway. This _Special-Awesome-Super-Long-Marathon-Chapter_ is dedicated to **Clumsy Peg**, because she's an awesome writer.

And because I snort with laughter at our _inspiring_ conversations. Yes. You can blame her for this chapter's specialness. xD

It's time! Buckle yourselves up, gang! We're going on a road trip! And we pick up directly from where we left off- Optimus is about to grill the teams.

Well- after you read through a surprise passage with the Decepticons. They're _usually_ at the end of the chapter, you know. :)

But, it _is_ Chapter 13. Some might say this was unlucky, wouldn't they? (mwahahaaaaa!)

Hope you enjoy! :D

**Warning**:

_Put down your sandwiches! Do it nooow!!_

**Disclaimer:**

_This is what SHOULD happen in tf3. This, however, will not happen in tf3._

_This is because I own nothing. NOTHING! Except my doggy. And the Fan Balloon of Doom._

* * *

Megatron scowled. This couldn't _get_ any more annoying.

They were in the air vents, for Primus' sake. They were crawling _through_ the air vents. Or, more precisely, they _had_ been. They certainly weren't going anywhere at this moment.

Why?

Why?

_Why?_

This was what any normal Cybertronian might have asked. It might even have been what Megatron intended to ask. We shall never know. "What the _frag_ are you doing, you useless glitch?"

Starscream heaved air through his own vents, and panted heavily, shaking his helm. "I-can't-"

The next words were lost in a spasm of his body.

Megatron rolled his optics, and tried to be understanding and helpful. "There's no such word as _can't_."

Starscream, even in his evident distress, turned to look at him disbelievingly. Megatron could tell he was disbelieving because one optic ridge was raised, and one optic was slightly narrowed.

He snarled. "What's the problem, _aft_?"

Starscream choked around the words that he could not say. "...T-too tight-"

"What's_ too tight_, you cretin?"

The smaller Decepticon curled into a ball, and started shaking.

Megatron was slightly worried. Yes, his second had his dramatic moments, but this one seemed strikingly genuine.

He had a processor wave, and reached into subspace, pulling out a novel.

Starscream was too busy whimpering to even make a sarcastic comment. Something was _not_ right.

_How To Take Care Of Your Seeker_. Megatron flicked through to the desired section.

He knew he'd seen something relevant in this before.

_Exercising, Grooming and Handling..._ no, that wasn't it._ Seeker Young, Reproduction-_ interesting, yes, _very interesting_, but not- ah!_ The Healthy Seeker and Ailments._

Megatron haha'd in triumph. "Haha!"

Starscream shivered, and coughed; a rattling, terrible sound.

He scanned the page, checking for different symptoms.

_Is your Seeker suffering?_

Why did the voice he read it in sound so cheerful and chirpy?

_Is he curled up in a ball?_

Yes, he was. Megatron followed the arrow to another box.

_Is it a sexy ball?_

Y- Hang on! Who wrote this rubbish? He skipped the question.

_Did you kick him too hard?_

Did I- no!

_We can conclude that you didn't kick him, **this time**, but you are a per-_

The Supreme Commander of the Decepticons sighed, and tried to control himself, skipping down the page.

_Perhaps your Seeker is in a ball, and is shaking. Perhaps he can hardly speak. Perhaps he just really doesn't look very well._

_"_Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps..." Megatron hummed, nodding in agreement with the book, and reading on.

_How old is your Seeker? If he is quite young, he could be going through the Fright Period. You must be very gentle and sympathetic- this time period will determine how nervous your Seeker is in older age. If he seems nervous of anything, you must show your support and prove to him that there is nothing to fear. It is advisable to spend a lot of time with your Seeker at this point, but not be with him constantly- otherwise he could become afraid if he is not by your side. When not with him, make sure he is in a secure and safe environment. Loud noises, violence and enclosed spaces are taboo at this point._

Megatron found himself rather interested. When was Starscream's Fright Period? He must have had it already. But there were no loud noises, was no violence. But there _was_ an enclosed space. That must be it.

Sure enough, on the next page, there was a large diagram entitled: ENCLOSED SPACES.

He scanned through. Apparently Seekers did not do well in these. Mind you, this wasn't much of a surprise. They were sparked _for_ the air. So, naturally, they felt confined and unable to escape from danger when 'trapped' in small spaces. This provoked extreme stress.

Megatron thought back over the years. _That_ explained a lot of things.

There was still something amazing about the situation. They were in an air vent, and Starscream was having trouble venting air. This was deliciously ironic.

With a sigh, Megatron grabbed Starscream, and began to crawl back out of the vent.

The Seeker wasn't having any of it. He shrieked and clawed at Megatron viciously.

Holding Starscream firmly with one hand, Megatron consulted the book with the other. _If retrieving your Seeker from such a situation, be prepared for volatile and possibly violent behaviour. Your Seeker will be unaware of what is going on and may think you have different intentions than the undoubtedly good ones that you're having, thus provoking a wild, primeval side which will do what it can to survive. This can become incredibly dangerous, and we recommend you call our hotline for advice, or call out our professional We Seek Your Seeker service._

Megatron raised an optic ridge. Right. As if. The orn Starscream managed to become a danger to him was the orn he- oh, whatever. It wasn't going to happen.

Eventually, though, it got a bit tiresome. Megatron shook him as much he could. "Starscream! You _twerp_! Stop!"

Starscream curled up on himself and wailed miserably, but ceased his violent struggling.

Rolling his optics, Megatron managed to climb out of the shaft back on to the roof, where he gently placed the other mech.

Starscream didn't move.

Megatron wafted the air towards his wings, which apparently might help, because the Seeker would hopefully realise they were out in the open again.

Nothing. The book might know. _If your Seeker is ever in one of these situations and manages to come out alive, he could likely be traumatised._

Primus. That's just what he wanted to know. He hurled the depressing book away.

"Come on, you glitch! Live! _Live_!" The wafting became faster, and he desperately started to blow in his direction at the same time.

Eventually he stopped. There didn't seem to be anything he could do.

Slowly, Megatron knelt by the motionless Seeker, and frowned. "You can't just die on me. I didn't say you could." He reached out hesitantly, and stroked Starscream's wing sadly. "It shouldn't have ended this way. There were so many things we didn't do- all those things we should have done! So many Autobots to destroy, so little time. All those life forms we never enslaved. Ah, but think of the good times, though. Like when we sabotaged that Autobot ship, and tricked them into blowing their own fleet up? That was the best. That didn't end in disaster. Well, not for us, anyway. I should have-"

These words were useless. It was too late.

With a sigh, Megatron pulled him into a soft embrace and closed his optics. "Starscream, I'm sorry."

Eventually, he gently released the smaller Decepticon and sat back. _What to do now? What **could** he do? What was h-_

Starscream's mouth twitched slightly, and there was an almost inaudible chirp.

Megatron blinked. "S-Starscream? You're alive?"

The other mech slowly and shakily sat up, then nodded- only to be smothered in a mechly hug. He twitched once, then squeezed back as best he could.

Megatron sighed in relief, then pouted. He grasped the other by the shoulders and shook him. "How _dare_ you die on me! I never gave you permission!"

Starscream protested the best he could. "B-but-I-didn't-"

"I am the _only_ thing that will ever take you offline, you understand me? You are not allowed to die."

"But-what-if-"

Megatron felt somewhat oddly comforted by the fact that Starscream was both whining away and now grovelling on his knees before him. "Do it! Swear that you won't die."

The Seeker gave him the briefest of odd glances before realising he was completely serious. "But-"

The commander growled.

"...I promise-"

"No, no." _Whack_. "Promises are for Autobots. Repeat that, then try again."

Starscream scowled and rubbed his helm. "Promises are for Autobots."

"With _conviction_! I don't hear _conviction_! You sound like you're conversing with the Balloon of Doom! Try _believing_!"

Was this a Mega-Pep Talk? Was Megatron actually trying to be-

The massive Decepticon struck him again. "Do it, or so help me, enclosed spaces will be the _least_ of your worries."

The Seeker cringed. "Of course, my lord. Promises are for _Autobots_." He tried to sound menacing, disgusted and sincere.

A rather complicated feat for one who has just woken from near-death.

Nodding in satisfaction, his leader gestured for him to continue.

Well, it wasn't like Megatron could punish him if he failed this command. _Was it?_

Wincing, Starscream twitched his wings. "I swear that I will not die unless you bid it, my liege. You, and only you, will be my demise. My finish, my ruin. My definite downfall, my total termination. My-"

As much as Megatron could listen to this all day, there was a mission to complete. "You _aft! _Do you realise how wor- I mean, how _troublesome _this has been? We're behind schedule!" He stood, scowling, and walked back to the open ventilation shaft. "Right. You, stay there. Obviously you can't go back in- what are you _doing_?"

Starscream was peering into the hole tentatively by his side.

"Go and sit over there, you fool."

"If- if you're going, I'm going."

"No you aren't."

"Am too."

"I don't want to have to _persuade_ you."

"Even- even if you do, I'll follow you in."

_Primus._

* * *

The book lay alone on the roof, pages rustling in the breeze. Megatron, in all of the commotion, hadn't actually read what it said in the next paragraph.

_Although there is a high mortality rate, if your Seeker is strong enough, he could return to you- if you have a strong enough bond. Some swear that their Seeker came back to life when they heard their voice, pleading with them to return. Others say it helps to threaten to completely obliterate them if they dare to die on you._

_Whatever it is, if your Seeker does manage to reawaken, then you should consider yourself very lucky; there is only a one in at least a millionth chance that he will._

* * *

Optimus seated himself, indicated the medics should do so too, and spread everybody's data-pads on the desk before him. "Ratchet, Red Alert. Your pads are- sufficiently completed."

"So we're here _why_?"

"Patience, Ratchet." Optimus picked up a data-pad. "Your answers are somewhat hard to understand."

The CMO sniffed and crossed his arms. "Not to me. You-"

"Normal bots can't understand this," the commander insisted. "Heck, it's so cryptic I'd be surprised if anyone but _you_ could read this."

A dignified silence told Optimus this was the probably the case.

"For example."

Ratchet's helm snapped up. "No, no. No examples required."

Prime pressed on. "When asked what comes to mind when you see Red Alert, you replied- and I quote- '_Red Alert is eerily reminiscent of an undiagnosed disease. Although one cannot know what to expect, or what anti-virus software or treatment will be required, one cannot help but become animated and excited when one thinks of the unknown challenge ahead. Even though it will likely be draining on one's state, there is no doubt that the path will be rewarding in its own right_."

Shaking his helm, Optimus re-read the answer in his processor. No, it still didn't make any sense. He glanced up, and saw Ratchet scowling _quietly_. Wow. That made a change. The CMO was all bite _and_ bark generally, to use the human terminology.

Yes. Optimus was getting hip and handy with human phrases.

Red Alert suddenly spoke, looking unusually moved. "Y-you... really mean that, sir?"

Ratchet sighed. "Yes. I did and I do."

Optimus was amazed to see Red Alert press a hand over his mouth, make a noise that could have been a quiet sniff, then exhale shakily.

Ratchet sighed. "See, Optimus? I'm not the only one. Can we go now?"

The flamed mech pointed at Red Alert with the data-pad. "You can understand this?"

The junior medic nodded with a tremble.

"What's the matter? Is it insulting?"

Ratchet snorted.

Red Alert gasped. "N-no! It's not, not at all."

Optimus scratched his sore optic. "Fine, wonderful. Red Alert, your answers were clear, comprehendible and concise. Perfect responses, so you don't have to redo them. Ratchet, it looks like you're in the clear. I can't understand this, but obviously Red Alert does, so maybe he can look through it and tell me what you're on-"

"NO, he shouldn't-" Ratchet stood up, knocking his chair over and lunging for the outstretched hand.

Quick reflexes enabled Optimus to dive backwards with the pad still in his possession. "Ratchet! What's the problem?"

Ratchet sprang towards him. "Give it here!"

"No!" Optimus held the pad high in the air. "What's wrong with you?"

Ratchet began jumping upwards, scrabbling to get a hold of the device. "_Justgiveittome!_"

Red Alert watched in utter bewilderment as the two high ranking Autobots struggled for the data-pad.

"Ratchet! Really...! Stop!"

The CMO gave one last futile hop into the air, wiggled his fingers at the obnoxious pad still a couple of meters above him, and scowled. _Foul play was required-_

_Or not._ Seeing no other option, Ratchet sighed, and rubbed his facial plating. "Red Alert, give us a moment."

The other medic nodded quickly, saluted them both, and left the room.

Optimus viewed the luminous mech suspiciously, but he seemed to have calmed down. The huge mech seated himself on a nearby chair, and waited.

"...I'm sorry, Optimus." Ratchet finally said, quietly. He leant against the table opposite to Optimus, and looked him straight in the optics. "I should have just said that I'd rather you not give Red Alert that data pad."

"Forgive me for my seeming naivety, but I'm afraid that I don't understand your concern."

Ratchet snorted. "You wouldn't, you're not me."

"Thankfully."

The medic half-smiled. "Will you just do this for me? Call it a favour."

Optimus studied his CMO with a small frown. "...Of course. If it means that much to you, then consider it done."

Ratchet bowed his helm in relief. "Thank you. Was there anything else?"

"No, there wasn't. You're alright?"

The smaller mech stood. "Course I am. I'm always alright, you know me. Grouch-face, _on_."

Optimus rolled his optics. "In all sincerity. Ratch? I'll always be here. Not just as a commander- but a friend."

Ratchet paused suddenly at the door. "Kid, consider my threat about your next check-up annulled. And," he added, "You need to come to the medbay about that optic. I'm not happy with it. _At all._"

Optimus could have sworn he heard the CMO mutter something else, but then he was gone.

"Snazzy roll, Prime," a jaunty voice declared. "Quite tidy, considering your height."

"How on Cybertron do you know- Jazz, I hope you weren't listening."

"Me? Oh, no. I was, er, just looking." Said mech advanced into the room cheerfully.

"Through a _wall_?"

"Um, I have psychic powers?"

Optimus narrowed his optics, and advanced on the saboteur. "I think you and I need a _talk_."

Jazz backed away, hands raised. "Don't hurt me-"

"Why would I hurt you?"

The silver mech twitched. "You looked really, really scary for a moment there."

Optimus sighed. "I don't know _how_ to look scary."

"Maybe you need fangs, or something. Open wide."

Optimus crouched down, and opened his mouth. Jazz glanced inside, visor brightening in concentration. "Hmm..."

"Hmmm?"

"You haven't _really_ got sharp, evil teeth. Ooh, hang on, what's this?"

"How should I know? I can't see-"

"Stop talking. How can I see if you're closing your mouth?"

"Use your _psychic_ powers."

"Touché. Touché..." Jazz prodded something. "Ooooh!"

Optimus waited for the spy to finish. "What?"

"Oh, it's the cutest! You've got two tiny little fang-y things." Jazz clasped his hands together.

Optimus glowered at the small mech. "Don't be silly."

"I'm not!"

"Autobots don't have fangs, you twerp."

"Hey, don't stereotype. And stop insulting me!"

"I'm the commander; I'll do what I like."

Both mechs fell silent.

"I'm sorry, Jazz."

"It's okay, _Megatron._"

"Oh, come on."

"The next team is ready to come in, _my lord_."

Optimus twitched. "Will you-"

Hot Rod and Bumblebee skidded into the room.

"_Where__ **do** __they get their energy from?_" Bumblebee flung his arms into the air.

"Youth, Bumblebee. HOORAY FOR YOUTH!"

Both young mechs cheered.

Hot Rod bounced towards a seat. "So, Optimus, what's going _dowwwn_?"

Bumblebee flapped his doorwings excitedly.

"Err... okay." Optimus eyed them. _If they had been experimenting with sugar drinks again, Sam- friend, ally, hero, legend or no- was going to be in trouble._

//_That was really enthusiastic,_// Optimus commented.

//_Briiiiiiiilliant observation, my liege_.//

Team Two watched Optimus' face suddenly twitch. He closed his optics, and sighed heavily, the motion juddering through his body.

"Right. You two."

"That's us!" Hot Rod declared, jumping onto his chair, and clenching his fists in excitement.

"_Let the record play!_"

"We're ready for whatever you can throw our way!"

"_Yes, indeedy!_"

He would have to just go for it. "Your pads. They have some odd answers."

Hot Rod blinked happily. Bumblebee's optics snapped around the room.

"Bumblebee. Yours are understandable- Jazz helped me out-"

"It was a pleasure, _my lord_."

Optimus continued, barely twitching that time. "-but I _still_ don't understand why you used lyrics."

Bumblebee's antennae drooped. "_It's easy when you're big in Japan-_"

Hot Rod scowled suddenly.

Optimus spared him an odd glance, then returned to Bumblebee.

_"It's only natural- help me out, I need it-" _The yellow mech looked at him beseechingly.

"...Very well. I suppose they were comprehendible and interesting. Good job; Jazz and I did enjoy reading through the pad."

Hot Rod suddenly had a coughing fit.

"Hot Rod. Your answers were-"

"Perfect, I know."

"No. They are a little too- how can I put this?"

"I don't mind if you think they're _too_ good. I mean, I can understand that you don't want me showing up everybody else here, that's okay-"

"No, Hot Rod. The problem is, that no matter the question, you managed to turn the answer around to involve _you_."

"I would never do such a thing!"

Prime decided to read out one of the questions as evidence. "'_How far would Bumblebee go to complete a mission?'_

'_Bumblebee would do whatever it takes. He learnt from the best- need you ask? Ha, me, of course_.'" Optimus paused, then glanced up at the nodding Hot Rod. "Need I continue? Right, I will. '_What does Bumblebee do in his spare time?' _

_'Bumblebee? He doesn't do much, as far as I know, except try and beat me on the racetrack and wistfully hope that one day he could be as awesome as I am. In fact, in his spare time, he stalks me. I know it. He thinks that if he copies everything I do, then he'll be sure to succeed. I should really tell him he'll always be inferior, but I haven't the spark.' _Remember yet? See how they all return to the subject of you?"

"I know. Skilful, right?"

"Not the point of the exercise."

Hot Rod pouted. "It's all true, though."

"No, it's not."

"He looks up to me. Don't be delusional, Optimus."

Bumblebee flexed his fingers. That was the only warning anyone had. In a split second, he had jumped at Hot Rod. The two crashed onto the floor, and rolled around, snarling at each other.

Optimus' right optic bulged slightly. Jazz's mouth had moved into a concentrated pout.

Prime closed his optics wearily. "...Bumblebee."

The yellow mech disengaged from the fight immediately- then punched Hot Rod hard in the face. The other mech fell to the floor, sneezing. He hurled himself at Bumblebee, only to find that he wasn't there.

Jazz grabbed and threw him into his line-up of two, pinning them to the wall. Did he love his magnetic ability, or what?

He glared at each and frowned. Oh, to be tall. Then he could glare _down_ at them. But, that didn't really matter. Jazz had learnt how to wield his height effectively. It did help- a lot- but one didn't need to be tall. He gave one of his most piercing and threatening gazes (yes, the visor helped, he wouldn't deny it) and watched them calm down a little.

Something was going on here. There had to be a reason why the two could get along well one minute, then be savaging each other the next. "Hot Rod, your answers will suffice. But y'should get down to the medbay. And Bumblebee, go with him. Any word of you two so much as _twitching_ at each other irritably, an' I will personally supervise a suitable punishment, y'hear me?"

Bumblebee nodded briefly, shook his helm in disgust, and left.

Hot Rod snorted. "I went easy on him."

"Out, Hot Rod. And send in Team Three."

There was a long break between Hot Rod skulking away, and Team Three entering.

Now and then Jazz's acute audio receptors picked up voices. It seemed as though Prowl was dishing out some words of his own to Bumblebee and Hot Rod. _Prowl style_.

Slightly more harshly than Jazz, too.

* * *

"Prowl, I realise you were in the medbay for an obscenely long time- may it never happen again- so you don't have to worry about yours being completely and utterly unfilled."

The mech twitched uncomfortably.

"You can do them in the time given to the slackers instead."

Prowl nodded. "Will do, Prime."

Optimus sighed. "Sunstreaker."

"What's up?"

"_This_ is up, Sunny." Optimus produced the said mech's data-pad.

There was silence. "And?"

"...You do realise this was not an art competition?"

Sides choked quietly. _Uh-oh_.

"Nor, in fact, was it a competition vying for ideas for some kind of smut-channel?"

"Well-"

Prowl held out his hand.

"Prowl, honestly, some things you just don't want to see."

The second took the pad, and looked at it.

Every mech in the room watched him intently.

He blinked. His cheek-plating twitched. He blushed. His mouth fell open in horror.

"SUNSTREAKER!"

Sideswipe sighed. "That bad, huh."

"Yours was fine, Sides." Optimus reassured. "Adequate, if not somewhat vibrant answers-"

"WHAT IN THE PIT WERE YOU THINKING-!"

"Aw, Prowlie, come on," Sunny whined, clasping his hands together.

"No! That's it. This will not go unpunished."

"Speaking of punishments, I have a sufficient idea." Optimus randomly announced.

Team Three looked at him; Prowl grasping Sunny's audio receptor, Sideswipe in mid-sigh of relief.

"Mudflap and Skids will be joining your team," Prime yawned, swivelling round in his chair.

The twins twitched. Prowl's mouth fell open.

"NO!"

"Oh, Primus, let this be a joke!"

Prowl leant on the desk. "You cannot be serious. One set of twins is quite enough."

"I have made up my mind," Optimus replied, legs swinging through the air with the speed he was swivelling at.

"Well, unchange it! We won't antagonise everyone!"

"I'll redo my pad!"

Sunny and Sides' pleas went unheeded. They kneeled before their superior.

"Prowlie! You gotta help!"

"You have to do something!"

Prowl closed his optics, and sighed. It was a world-weary sigh. He spoke quietly. "You won't change your mind, will you."

Optimus beamed as he kicked off from the wall, sending him careering forwards. "Nope."

"Then promise me one thing."

The commander could see that Prowl had resigned himself to his fate and felt sorry for him, so he ceased swivelling and twirling and sliding, and came to a halt before his second.

"Promise me that if Skids and Mudflap completely screw up, you'll remove them from this team."

Optimus tilted his helm. "Why?"

Prowl bowed his helm, slightly embarrassed, before regaining his composure. "...Because I think that I can work with these two. Another set of twins might throw us off-balance."

Jazz had a sudden image of Team Three precariously wobbling on a giant see-saw.

Optimus studied the other mech. "Very well. I trust you to make an appropriate judgement."

Before anything else could be said, the door flew open.

"Dis be more like it, Skids!"

"Dis be our spankin' new team?"

"Ah, we be the stars here."

"Doh's suckas be right in fo' it."

Prowl pushed himself up off the desk, straightened, and sent one of his patented Looks at Sunny and Sides, who had started forwards. Sunny pouted, and Sides looked crestfallen.

"_You two_!"

The Corvette twins looked up sharply, but for once, they were not the ones under scrutiny.

"Do you realise that you just contradicted Rules 73_ and_ 56?"

"Uh... noes?"

"Silence. I did not require a reply, since it was clear that you did."

Flexing his shoulders and rolling his neck in preparation, Optimus then folded his hands and aimed his best Prime-Glower at the arrivals.

_Rule 56_

_Be respectful to your allies._

_P.S. Especially in front of senior officers._

_P.P.S. An extra dollop of respect is required for senior officers. Because they're senior. And__ **no**__, twins, stop sniggering. Senior, not senile. Read it again._

_Rule 56b_

_It is not respectful to call a human any of the following: 'flesh' (or any variation of this, such as 'fleshy', 'fleshling', or, Primus-_**_forbid_**_, 'flesh-bag' or 'flesh-packet') 'human, 'mammal', 'squishy', 'insect', 'runt', 'maggot', or 'dwarf'. I can't be bothered with more examples; it's not that hard._

_P.S. If ever unsure if a word demeans a human in a sizist way, be sure to run it by Jazz. Although I do not authorise you to shout phrases like 'squirt' at him, I cannot stop you if I do not hear this. _

_Rule 73_

_When called to a room, you should knock first._

_P.S. It's etiquette, alright?_

"What's dis etty-ket?"

Prowl managed to control himself. "Something out of your reach, apparently."

"We's kinda short, but dere's no reason to rubbin' it in-"

"Soz," Skids interrupted his twin. "We's didn'st mean noes dissin'."

Prowl raised a frosty optic ridge. "I'll accept that pathetic excuse for an apology. But you forget that our Prime is in the room."

They glanced by the black and white to see Optimus gazing at them loftily.

They flung themselves to the floor. "Don'st be goin' all evil on us, sir!"

"We's sorry!"

"Yea! We's apologies!"

Optimus felt like being cool, so he merely inclined his head slightly. "I have another team to see."

Prowl snapped his fingers. "Team Three, we're off." He nodded at Optimus, glanced at Jazz, then departed.

After a moment of shock, Sunny and Sides dived after him, shoving past the other twins. "Wait up, Prowlie!"

"Heys! We's were dere!"

"Well, _we's_ here now. Right by Prowlie, where we belong," Sunny scowled.

"You go lower than that," his twin agreed.

"Far lower. You're behind the Decepticons-"

"You're underneath a maggot-"

"That's cruel to the maggot, Sides. I'd say... a leech."

"A leech. Blood-sucking, no benefit to anyone. And everyone just laughs to see you squirm-"

"Impaled on a spike-"

The voices faded away.

"Woah," Jazz exhaled. "What a performance from Prowler."

"He's good, you have to admit." Optimus unconsciously rotated one of his wheels in thought.

"He is. He has t'be, f'**both** pairs of twins. ALRIGHT! TEAM SEVEN!"

* * *

"Ironhide."

"We discussed my pads already, Optimus."

"Not really. 'Discussion' is not the term I'd use to describe you declaring that you'd _blown them up_."

Arcee snorted.

"Here." Optimus handed him some new pads. "I'm sure you've learnt from your previous experience. Try and not let them fall out of your subspace _this _time."

_One down_.

Jazz bravely started off. "Arcee, what were y'onwhen you wrote these?"

Prime hurriedly took over as the pink Autobot snarled. "Not everything that everyone says to you _ever_ is an attack on femme-kind- I don't know why it is that you've taken it upon yourself to be the sole kamikaze recruit for femme rights, but it can't go on."

There was a moment's silence. "...You feel threatened, don't you. You, as a mech, feel threatened! Which means that I'm getting somewhere!"

Jetfire sighed, almost inaudibly.

Jazz threw his helm against a wall.

Ironhide blasted a hole through the desk.

Optimus was less subtle. He walked over to the window, smashed his helm _through_ it, and roared at the sky. When he returned, he felt a little better. "Arcee, redo these. If you dare to put any kind of ..._anything _that's not related to the question, you will find yourself being Galloway's personal chauffeuse and/or bodyguard for an unspecified amount of time. I hope I have made myself clear."

Jazz whistled quietly in admiration. That was _evil_.

"Jetfire."

"Yes, sir?"

"I understand that you couldn't finish because you were in the medbay, but I would have thought..." Optimus paused. "You're a genius, Jetfire."

The shuttle blushed. "N-not really. I jus-"

"No, you _are_. This is why I cannot twig why you used _one_ answer for all of Ironhide's questions."

"Twig?" Arcee wrinkled her nasal platings.

"Why would you need to twig something?" Ironhide frowned.

"Does it mean that you poke someone with a wooden stick? Honestly, I'd expect nothing else. You probably think it's phallic enough to be-"

Optimus ignored them all. He was close. Just _one_ more to go. "Every single answer is either '_blow something up_', or some variation of this like, '_use more firepower than scientific laws decree possible._'"

Jetfire twiddled his thumbs. "But they all seemed to point that way...?"

"I want it done again, Jetfire."

The large mech nodded. "Will do, Prime. Consider it done. I'll make sure the answers are diverse and-"

Optimus interrupted gently. "Jetfire, just think about your answers. I don't want scientific _gook_ as an answer. Got it?"

"...Ah. Affirmative."

"And finish Arcee."

"WHAT? HAH! EVERYONE HEARD THAT!"

"Everyone can hear it now," Jazz muttered.

"That was a _direct_ order for assassination! You know that I'm getting somewhere, and you want me gone, so that I can't influence people!"

Optimus pinched the bridge of his nasal plating, and walked out of the room. He needed a lie-down. Or maybe he could punch the slag out of some drones.

* * *

**_Later on..._**

Megatron crawled in a somewhat undignified manner along the shaft.

Starscream followed close behind, wings twitching nervously.

They continued in this manner for a while, until-

"**_ULTIMATE CHALLENGE!_**" The boom echoed along the passage.

Megatron jumped, and dived to the side of the shaft before realising where the sound came from. "Starscream, what in the PIT ARE YOU DOING?"

Starscream cringed, flattening himself to the floor. "A couple of chapters ago, you asked me if Prime had said anything else in his speech. Well, he didn't, but Jazz did."

Megatron snarled. "You-did-that-for-what-specific-and-worthwhile-reason!?"

"I-I... didn't have a- it was just information about the mission, I suppose?"

Megatron had made sure to collect the book; it was handy enough. Perhaps he'd have a look later for a chapter on _Common Sense_ or _How To Deal Efficiently With Your Seeker When They Are Completely Useless_.

He growled, the sound rippling dangerously through the vent.

The Seeker whimpered, and pressed himself lower.

Turning, Megatron suddenly noticed he had become entangled in something. He looked down, and saw his right leg was completely ensnared by a mass of wires.

"The _base_ itself is against me," he muttered quietly.

Starscream, who hadn't dared to look up, remained very still.

"STARSCREAM! Do not _do_ that! ...Get over here. You've managed to make these wires _grasp_ me."

"You could just snap the wires, my leige," Starscream tried, crawling over.

"No, I couldn't. We don't know what they're for. The Autobots may notice. And besides, there are many. You'll have to release me."

Starscream looked at him blankly.

"Primus! Get underneath me, and untangle the slagging wires, you _insect!_"

"Of course, master. Sorry." Starscream eyed the situation. The wires were rather far up the limb, so he would have to crawl through his legs. _Wonderful._

He rolled onto his back and wriggled between Megatron's legs.

There was a pause.

Megatron sighed impatiently. "What _now_?"

"_Nothing_, my liege."

Starscream didn't want to sit up, he really didn't. Because there would then be _something_ right in his face. So, instead, he used his left hand to feel for and untangle the wires.

This should have worked. Unfortunately, at one point, Megatron decided to shift his weight. At the sight of Megatron's mechlihood looming towards him, Starscream panicked slightly, and his hand became stuck in the wires too.

"_Slag!_"

Megatron sounded like someone about to snap trying to control themselves, and not succeeding very well. "Starscream, tell me everything's going to plan."

With _that_ impending above you, no one would say something was wrong. "_Yesyesyes_. Everything is just _dandy_."

Damn. What could he do? ...He'd have to use his other hand, and maybe sit up. That way he'd be able to see what was going on, untangle himself, then get back to work on Megatron.

Right. He'd do it quickly. As it happens, it was too quickly. And, later on when he thought about it, it seemed to be the origin of his undoing- yes, he definitely regretted moving his hand first.

Said hand collided with the wires and became firmly locked in by the dreaded cables.

Trapped, he sat up immediately, but he had forgotten where he was. His face swung into Megatron's interfacing panel.

_"HOLY FRAG, SCREAMER!"_

Then all Pit broke loose.

* * *

**_A short while previously..._**

Jazz whistled cheerfully as he sashayed down the corridor. Frowning, he retraced his steps to the door of the medbay. Listening more closely, it sounded like a hysterical Prowl. "_WhyisSideswipetouchingme_?"

Prowl was back in the medbay, seeing as it was that Ratchet very unhappy with him. Apparently his stress levels had been battered. Double twin troubles? They were lucky he hadn't fritzed or imploded.

"Primus! I swear you have OCD!" Sunny, being very reassuring there. "It's called a hug, Prowlie!"

"I don't want this 'cuddle'! Get him off!"

"No way! He'd wake up and be grouchy! Besides, he's like the anti-escaping Prowl clamp."

Jazz contemplated stepping in, but realised that using the twins to blackmail Prowl would be far more entertaining in the long run.

"You don't understand! I need to-"

"Ratchet said _no_ to work, Prowlie."

"No, no. This isn't about work."

_Ha, as if_. Jazz could hear Prowl attempting to move. There was a softish thud.

Jazz activated the x-ray vision on his visor- very handy. Very nosy, but hey. Good blackmail could be passing him by. It wasn't like he had a choice in the matter, dammit.

Mudflap and Skids had been expressively told by Sunny and Sides that they were _not_ needed, so they weren't there.

Sideswipe was curled up practically on top of Prowl, helm snuggled by his arm. Jazz nearly melted in the cuteness.

He probably would have done if Prowl was not struggling to get up with a look of almost comic desperation.

Sunny was holding him firmly down, lips twitching with mirth.

"Do I have to wake Ratchet?" the golden mech demanded. "You _know_ how stressy he'll be. Why," he continued, optics innocently wide, "he may even think you need _more_ time off."

Prowl froze, and shut his optics.

That was that, then. Jazz turned to leave, but the urgency in Prowl's next words stopped him.

"You have to listen! There's-"

"_Proooooooowl_…" Warning tones, there.

"Someone has-"

"You're getting stressed."

"I WONDER WHY!?" Prowl shrieked, straining to move, to push to the snoozing Sideswipe away. "If you don't let me go, _you _have to check it out!"

"Oh, sure. And while I'm gone, with the word '_Gullible_' printed along my sexy, sexy aft, you won't sneak to your office."

"_What!_? Oh, sweet Primus! There's someone in the base! You need to get this stupid-"

Sunny cocked his helm. "You just call my brother stupid?"

Jazz cringed as a loud bellow echoed around the medbay, and probably most of the base too.

"RAAAAATCHETT!"

Wincing, Jazz hurried away, thinking. Something wasn't quite right, no matter what Sunstreaker believed. _Even at the threat of early-morning Ratchet, Prowl had said someone was in the base…? _Jazz's sharp mind puzzled over this oddity.

Hm. Well, even if it was a lie, it might make night time patrol that bit more fun. Double-O-Jazz, you have a licence to be _cool_. Frostily cool. Superiorly cool. Ice cool. Cucumber cool.

Where next on patrol? Ah, the labs.

Jazz stealthily navigated his way down the corridor, soft music pulsing from his speakers.

"Dadadaa, dada! …doodoodoooh!" _Hang on. That was Mission Impossible_.

Cursing himself- Bond would not make this error (the wrong theme tune? This was a travesty)- Jazz corrected his humming, and continued the patrol.

He smoothly evaded the security cameras.

He cunningly flipped into the- no. Would James Bond use a lift? The Pit he would. Besides, Jazz was one up on Bond.

He deftly climbed out of the window.

He nimbly scaled the wall- those generic bad guy's henchmen would never catch him now!

He laughed with an air of sophistication and a touch- just a _touch_- of arrogance as the (imaginary) bumbling goons crowded below, wondering overly loudly how that meddling protagonist had slipped once again through their grasp.

"Next time," he murmured heroically, "Don't send pawns to do the main antagonist's job."

Mind you, both heroes and villains alike had their one-liners.

Once, Jazz remembered, after a particularly fierce altercation with the 'cons, Optimus had made a remark on Megatron's tactics (or lack of).

This had spawned the longest end of a melee anyone had ever seen. It, in its own right, deserved to be called a battle. A battle of one-liners, of epic proportions.

Obviously, Megatron had not taken the hit to his strategy lying down. No. He sprang to his feet, wheezed, and fell over again. But not before snarling something rude about Optimus' heritage.

This would not do. Prime was Prime, after all. So, Optimus smartly decided that Megatron could not be the last one to speak.

This cycle continued. And continued. And, surprisingly, continued.

The insults became more and more pathetic.

So much so, both leaders were running out of effective, insulting insults.

Jazz remembered it like it was yesterday.

_Optimus had staggered to his feet after some particularly harsh rudeness from the Decepticon and shaken his head in disgust. Everybody tensed, waiting to see how the commander would return the blow. Expectation soared, the air so thick with it that both factions could barely see__ each other._

_Optimus opened his mouth, and pointed tiredly, but with determination. "This is over, Megatron."_

_Everybody hung on for his next words. Bumblebee squeaked in excitement. Barricade, still frozen in position from hours before, slapped him. The sharp sound echoed painfully through the silence._

_Optimus seemed to realise this apprehension, and screwed up his face in thought._

_Megatron politely waited. And waited. "…Do you need some assistance?"_

"_No! I can think of one just fine. I don't need your help."_

"_That makes a change."_

_Did this count as insulting? Helms snapped back and forth between the two. "Yes, well, our parents loved me more."_

_Megatron blinked. "That was unexpected."_

_Optimus instantly felt guilty. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that. It was mean. They loved us both the same, before you turned into a psychopath, and all. Then they were dead, so they probably didn't care so much."_

"_It's too late, Optimus. You went and said it. A low blow."_

"_I didn't mean it! It was just a… a desperate lunge!"_

"_A__ **desperate lunge**__. Right, I see." The Decepticon Commander rubbed his facial plating quickly, and turned away._

"_Noo! Don't go! You can't go! You can't abscond at this moment! "_

_Megatron swung back and pointed at him. "I am. Leave it, Prime."_

_Optimus leapt at his brother. "NO! You can't call me Prime! That means you're rather displeased!"_

_Megatron side-stepped, and walked away, suddenly feeling very heavy. "Decepticons, we depart."_

_For a few seconds, all was well. Then Starscream opened his mouth. "…Um, Lord Megatron?"_

"_WHAT?" he bellowed._

_Starscream winced and didn't dare to say anything else, but pointed at his leg._

_Megatron clenched his claws, glared the If-This-Is-Your-Idea-Of-A-Joke-You're-Going-To-Pay-Dearly-Later Glare briefly at his second, then looked down. A certain mech was clinging to the limb despairingly._

_Starscream took a couple of steps back instinctively as Megatron shook the leg viciously._

"_What on Cybertron are you doing? Release me!"_

"_Never! Say you aren't offended in any way! Then, and only then shall I leave you in peace!"_

"_No! I shan't. Now let go!"_

"_I didn't meeean iiiiiiiiiit! Say you forgive me! Please!"_

"_No! …You know what? Our parents must have hated you! You're so__ **whiny! **__Such a spoilt brat! You were always like this! Always clinging, clinging,__ **clinging** __to my leg_**_! _**_For Pit's sake,__ **why-**__!"_

_Once again, silence reigned. All optics were on Optimus._

Jazz winced as he came out of the memory. This was not the time to be fooling around! He was on a mission. Flashbacks could wait.

Skilfully, Jazz slipped into the second floor of the base, rolling on impact.

He twirled gracefully and pressed himself against the wall, _ingeniously_ shielding himself from enemy optics.

"Just one mech against them all," he uttered courageously. "...Wow. Script writers never learn, do they? Always outnumbered. _Always._Why not send in a couple of agents to accompany the main protagonist instead of some smut-bot? Not that I complain," he added nobly.

A deafening howl of outrage echoed through the base. "STEREOTYPING, ARE WE? I'M GOING TO RIP YOU-"

//_Arcee! Stop_!// Sunny ordered. //_I've enough to deal with without__ **you** __screeching away_!//

His twin agreed. //_Yeah! Honestly! We've just managed to get Prowl down, and__ **you** __start!//_

Ironhide concurred, but in a slightly louder manner. "SHUT THE FRAG UP, FEMME!"

"SHOVE IT UP YOUR AFT!"

"I WOULD, IF IT WOULD MAKE YOU SHUT UP! WHY DON'T YOU SHOVE IT UP **YOURS**?"

"PIT, I WOULD IF IT WERE LARGE ENOUGH!"

//_If you two don't stop this RIGHT now, I'm going to make you suffer_.//

//_And Ratchet never lies_,// Red Alert added into the sudden silence.

//_You're learning, junior. You're learning_.//

Jazz felt slightly guilty that he had awoken most of the base. _But sacrifices had to be made. They'd understand._

To Wheeljack's lair! Where undoubtedly, the unrelenting enemy must be swarming, to capture the one, true ally and long-time friend of Double-O Jazz, due to some heroic feat he must have accomplished for the engineer a while ago.

He rounded the corner with a graceful spin and-

Wheeljack stood before him, smiling like a proud father, covered in ash and general filth.

"Hey, Jazz. Thought I heard you. Wanna see something _cool_?"

Jazz shrugged. "Why not?"

They entered the labs and Jazz saw an innocuous device nestling on a bench. He glanced about. Nothing burning, exploding- or even gently smoking. How odd. Well, that was a good sign.

"So, 'Jack, what's it do?"

Wheeljack crossed to the device excitedly. "Well, if you'll just touch it _here_-" he held out the box to the other mech.

"Uh, no. No offence, but las' time anyone touched an experiment of yours, Optimus threw him in th'brig f'ceiling destruction."

"Oh, it doesn't blow up," Wheeljack sighed.

"Yeah, sure. How come _you_ didn't land up in th'brig?"

"Maybe because blowing things up is in my nature," the engineer replied, slightly sadly. "Just as you don't get thrown in the brig for sneaking into enemy territory, or Ironhide doesn't for obliterating anything in –or out- of his way. Like Sunny and Sides don't get thrown in the brig for being pranksters, or Ratchet for hurling heavy tools at people. Like -"

"Y' know what? Y'can stop there. That list was worthless."

"Oh. You sure you don't want to-" Wheeljack held out the device again.

"Soz. But the time before Jetfire, Bumblebee nearly lost his torso. An' th'time before, Sunny and Sides nearly killed Prowl _and_ Ratchet with that big, exploding-" Jazz struggled for a word. "...explosion."

Wheeljack smiled wistfully at the memory. "She was beautiful. All smoke, not much substance- but beauty is so fleeting."

Jazz nodded as if an iota of what Wheeljack was jabbering on about made sense.

The inventor set the device on the table, and caressed it repeatedly in different places. This stroking continued for what seemed like a while.

"Perhaps I should goooo...?" Jazz muttered.

"Hm? What?" Wheeljack caught the uncomfortable expression. "Oh, no! This isn't what it looks like. I'm entering a code. It reacts to pressure."

Jazz relaxed. "Phew. For a moment there, I thought y'were mol-"

The device let out a soft creak. Steam began trailing upwards.

Jazz gulped. "Maybe we shouldn't-"

Wheeljack beamed. "Don't worry! Since the last accident, I outfitted this entire place; it's reinforced now. We won't smash into Prime." He winked reassuringly.

"Oh, great." Jazz tried to sound enthused. "...But really, personal safety levels?"

Wheeljack looked thoughtful as the box growled, smoke emitting ominously. "Didn't think of that."

They stood, watching it.

"Wheeljack.? What does it even do?"

"Well... it emits a concentrated burst of the chemical that Jetfire and I discovered along with some additional trinkets."

The rest of the words were somewhat lost on Jazz.

The silver mech bit his lip. "This said substance being th'one that eats through anything?"

Wheeljack looked pleased that he knew of this, then his face fell. "I didn't think this through, did I?"

The device began to tick. Worryingly, like a bomb. Jazz dived into a locker as Wheeljack took effective refuge under a data-pad.

The device's ticking sped, increasing until almost continuous- then whirred, slowing down. A soft blue light pulsed from it.

Five astro-seconds later, Jazz dared to poke his helm out from his locker.

"Are we good?" Wheeljack asked.

Jazz realised _his_ opinion was probably more worthwhile than the master engineer's. "...I think so."

The device clicked again, and the light spread across the floor, creeping towards them.

"Hey Jazz! It's fine!" Wheeljack declared. _Why did he sound disappointed?_

Jazz silently closed the locker door.

The explosion came a nano-klik later. The small mech's locker was buffeted to and fro, to and fro, to and fro, but surprisingly, did not explode or implode on him. He was grateful for this.

Eventually, after a long pause, he punched the door, and it disintegrated. "Still got th'touch! Still got th'_powerrrrr_!" Climbing out, he looked around. "'Jack? You oka..."

The words trailed away as for once, the Head of Special Operations was totally and utterly speechless.

This was not something he had ever expected to see. Or wanted to see, for that matter.

"Jazz? I'm alright. Sweet blast. Small diameter, but- what's up? ...HOLY FRAG!"

Clearly the engineer had no problem expressing himself, as he looked upon the sight before- or above- them.

Jazz found his voice. "H-hey, 'Jack. Um... go find Prime."

"Shall I...?" Wheeljack gestured at the creaking floor.

"No, don't. Enter his room through the _door,_ not the ceiling- then get to Ratchet. You've lost y'right leg this time."

"I have?" The other mech glanced his way.

"Yup." Jazz pointed without shifting his gaze. He couldn't look away. It was one of those hideous I-can't-turn-away-but-I-really-should-for-the-sake-of-my-sanity moments.

"Ah, okays- PRIMUS! SLAG! GLITCHES!" Wheeljack's optics had returned upwards. He limped away.

"This is _not_ what it looks like-"

"_This_ is your fault!"

"Blame it on me, why don't you!"

"I just did, you stupid-"

The more Jazz looked, the less the horror of the situation struck him. His left optic twitched, and he started to laugh. He couldn't help it. Megatron and Starscream were certainly something. Not many Cybertronians would be doing this in a ventilation shaft.

And, it seemed, Megatron had bound Starscream's hands to his leg. _Kinky_. The poor Seeker was in a very awkward position- he couldn't move too much because of his hands, but had managed to bend himself away from the bigger Decepticon.

Starscream suddenly wailed. "Are you _just going to stand there_?"

"You'd better flee, Autobot." Megatron suddenly sat down- on his second. Unfortunately, this new position put Starscream's helm, once again, right by the interfacing panel. "I'm going to obliterate you once I am free. Hurry up, you fool!"

"I can't _mooooooove_! You're crushing me!" Starscream whined.

"Well, do something!"

"Like _what_? I'm stuck too!"

"Aren't you _useless_." Megatron's optics darted around the room and landed on Jazz. He frowned in recognition. "...You, _Classical_, assist us."

"Classical? Nope. Guess again," Jazz sniggered.

"Reggae!"

Jazz cackled. "Nope."

The commander suddenly addressed his second. "Stop that! ...You _must _know his name_._"

Starscream sneered at Megatron's abdomen. "You don't. Why should I- OW!"

Bumblebee burst into the room.

"Don't look, 'bee! You'll damage your mental state!"

The yellow mech froze.

"I don't want your innocent optics to be perverted, so back out while y'can."

"_Too little, too late-_"

Hot Rod crashed into the yellow mech. "WHAT'S GOING ON?"

Bumblebee quickly reached up and covered his optics. "_Stay as young as you can, for the longest time..._"

"Hm. It's something musical! What _is_ it?"

"Check iTunes!" Hot Rod shouted helpfully.

"Do _what_?"

Starscream attempted to explain. "They have a genre list of music- _owww_!"

"I am _not_ referencing human culture, you imbecile. I know this. I shall remember it. Emo? Punk? Gospel? Gothic? Punk? Swing?"

Jazz sighed, laughter leaving him tired.

There was a growl. "YOU! I know _your _name. You're Prime's-"

Hot Rod leapt forth. "ME!"

"No, twerp, not you. The yellow one. Insect, insect-"

"Bumblebee, my leige."

"Yeasssss, that's the one. Yellow runt, what's _his_ name?"

Bumblebee dived at Hot Rod and tackled him to the ground. "_It's indie rock and roll, for me-_"

"Right, musical. It works," Megatron nodded. "Indie-rock-and-roll, if you want to live, do something helpful."

Starscream choked. "_Indie-rock-and-roll?_?? He's-"

"Silence! You got us into this. You had to drag me down with you. Why are you even alive? I should probably-" Megatron began one of his rants.

Naturally, Starscream ignored him, and began an appeal. "...Stop laughing, Jazz."

"Who's Jazz? I'm _Indie-rock-and-roll_. But please, just call me _Indie_. I hope we can be friends. Oh, by the way," Jazz smiled disarmingly. "I do _love_ your new paintjob."

Starscream snarled and wriggled furiously. Megatron looked down in alarm.

"...Please, you-! OWCH! That hurt!"

"Who in Pit told you to say _please_ to an Autobot, you dysfunctional fool?"

Starscream tried to twist away from the ominously and scarily close interfacing panel and ended up with a wing snapped at a hideous angle. "Nnnnhh!"

Megatron scowled. "Stop moving."

"_Neveeer_!"

Jazz crossed his arms over his chest, fully amused by the scene unfolding before him. "I didn't know you could bend that way, Starscream," he said, looking up the Seeker in question.

"That's because _I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO!_" Starscream yelled back at him angrily, optics twitching in annoyance. Or maybe that was pain. Jazz couldn't really tell. "Now will you get me out of this or not?"

Jazz thought for a moment. "Well... no."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both. A) It's too funny, and b), Prime needs t'see this."

Megatron snarled. "You glitch! I'm going to-"

"Foul words mean nothing here, my lovelies."

Megatron inhaled loudly. "Fine. Then think of it as unfair to Optimus."

Starscream yelped as Megatron shifted his weight, his interfacing panel now pressed right against Starscream's chin. "How about _UNFAIR_ TO ME_?!_"

"True. You are in somewhat of a compromising position. No brother would want to see something like this. Especially not a little brother."

"Compromising? What do you mean, compromising?" Megatron frowned.

Jazz paused. The mech was obviously trying to bluff it out. Or maybe he was in denial. "...It's okay. We all know you two have got something going on."

Starscream blinked. There was ten seconds pause.

Then the howls began, accompanied by deafening screeching.

Bumblebee's optics widened in horror. By the time anyone could get here, it was going to be too late.

Hot Rod flailed his arms, optics still covered by the yellow mech, who was slowly backing him out of the door.

No one could particularly understand what Starscream was shrieking, because he was raging in what sounded like the language of Seekers, but everyone understand _what_ he was doing to Megatron.

Jazz winced, and apologised silently to the Decepticon Commander.

* * *

**Deleted Scene!! xD**

Megatron crawled in a somewhat undignified manner along the shaft.

Starscream followed close behind, wings twitching nervously.

They continued in this manner for a while, until-

"**_ULTIMATE CHALLENGE!_**" The boom echoed along the passage.

Megatron jumped, and dived to the side of the shaft- "AAAAARRRGH!"

There was a loud crash as he hit the floor- his weight had sent him flying straight through the thin metal. "YOU AFT! COULDN'T YOU HAVE WARNED ME? I'M GOING TO TEAR-"

"CUT!" Prowl leapt forward as Megatron flung himself at the Seeker. "_Woah_! Stop!"

"OWW!" Starscream wailed, struggling in a vicious headlock.

Ironhide gleefully charged in, cannons whirring in anticipation.

Prowl quickly stepped in. "Ironhide, NO! Megatron, STOP!"

The two mechs finally ceased their violent behaviour.

Megatron scowled. "All I wanted was a little warning! He did it completely at random!"

Prowl rubbed his chevron. "The sound is _supposed_ to surprise you! Otherwise your reaction will look wooden!"

"Wooden? That pathetic material? Are you trying to insult me?" Megatron clenched his claws, and snarled dramatically. "Fine, I'll let it pass. But not without consequence. Beware, Starscream. When you least expect it, I'll-"

"KEEP IT PG-_**13!**_" Ratchet howled, hurling a wrench from the other set, where he was filming with Optimus.

"Ratchet! You've ruined that take!" Sideswipe complained. The twins were speaking for Bumblebee, who was Junior Director. He was working the other scene- Prowl had seen talent in the boy; he had a way of bringing out the best in everyone.

Optimus sighed heavily. "It was a good one, too. Full of emotion-!"

Ratchet huffed. "Just trying to look out for you all."

Bumblebee chirped, and gestured at them to return to their positions.

Wheeljack suddenly squealed, glancing at his copy of the script. "EXPLOSIONS! There's _explosions_! I'll go rig up the set! And... and I have screentime!"

He fainted.

Prowl glared pointedly at Ratchet. "You're the medic here."

Ratchet scowled. "I'm too busy. Do you really want to delay the scene again? Red Alert can go!"

Red Alert sighed and left his solitaire game.

Bumblebee growled. "_Positions, please_!"

* * *

Megatron sat, reading through the script. Ah, he had another scene to do today. And what fun it looked like it would be.

Starscream suddenly appeared nearby, waving his own copy. "I wondered if you wanted to do a read-through?"

Megatron smirked. "Why not? Let's go the whole way."

"Excuse me?"

"...Not just a read-through. We can act it out, too."

"Oh, okay. Do you have a place you want to start at?"

Megatron paused. "Let's start at... oh, the point where you crawl underneath me."

Starscream's optics boggled as he read the scene. "What?!"

"It's just acting, don't worry."

"Right. Let's do this."

* * *

Bumblebee wandered around, trying to find the Corridor set; Prowl was about to shoot the Double-O-Jazz sequence. Apparently it needed a lot of cameras and dramatic angles. This meant Bumblebee was required so they could film simultaneously. But where was the set? Why was the base so large?

He peered into a room. Nope. Not there. Ah- he could hear some voices nearby, so he followed the sound to an innocuous door.

"Okay. So: I'm on the floor."

"Right you are. Um... shall I spread my legs a bit wider?"

"No, you can't move, remember? You're tied down."

"Of course. Well, here I come."

"Primus, you're heavy!"

A snarl. "So _sorry_! Now lie still..."

"Ow! That hurt! Stop it!"

"Heheh...I told you I'd _get you back_."

Curiosity was undeniably useful for a scout, but there were times when Bumblebee wished he wasn't so inquisitive- but he just _had_ to see what was going on. He opened the door, and peeked in.

And blinked. Twitching, he stood frozen for a moment. His legs crashed out from underneath him, and he slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

Ratchet commed him. //_Bumblebee, come on! Prowl's about to fritz_!//

_//...I'm about to fritz.//_

_//Why?//_

_//Megatron mounting Starscream is not PG-13.//_

_//Of course it isn't. What's it got to do with anything?//_

Bumblebee whimpered._ //It's got everything to do with **everything**.//_

Ratchet suddenly clicked_. //Primus!//_

Two seconds later, a large spanner smashed through a window in the Room. It collided with someone's body part, and was followed by a loud roar. "INDECENT SLAGGERS!"

Arcee suddenly appeared by Bumblebee. "Was it hot? Was it _hot_-"

Bumblebee ran. //_OPTIIIIIIIIMUUUUUUUS!//_

* * *

From his position underneath Megatron, Starscream glanced up. "Do you think it worked?"

Megatron rubbed his helm with a smirk. "Of course it did- Bumblebee _saw_."

"Well, you can get off now."

"Oh, sorry." Megatron, fully decent, stood up. "Remind me why you wanted to stage that?"

"To get that creepy femme away from me. She's scary."

"Glad I could be of assistance. Could we actually run through the scene now?"

"Of course...! Where shall we start from?"

Megatron's scanners picked up quickly incoming Autobot signals. "You know what? I suggest the part where you crawl underneath me."

Starscream grinned wickedly. "I have a suggestion too. Let's amp up the volume."

Megatron snickered. "Very well."

Arcee froze outside; loud noises had erupted from within.

Sunny and Sides skidded to a halt outside. "So, what's it like?"

"You voyeurs!"

Sunny snorted. "_You're _here."

"_MEGATRON! PLEASE, STOP!_"

"HOW ABOUT NO? I'll learn you to try and _usurp_ me!"

Arcee blinked. The twins gulped and ran back to the safety of the set.

* * *

**A/N: **Yes, I know you all want a book on _How To Take Care Of Your Seeker. _It just had to happen. (sniggers)

**Everybody**! Because we've reached the big 1-Double-0 in reviews, I want to ask you some things. Right now, there's a happy gap in my plot page, which I would like to be filled with wondrous team interaction.

What team would you like to see more of? I'll be happy to do whichever one you choose.

Two: shorter chapters, or longer ones? (Although I am unlikely to create one this long again- it is a special occasion.)

And, last thing, I'm considering adding deleted scenes to chapters more often from now on. Let me know what you think; yay, or nay?

Hey- if you review, you can glomp Megatron. You know you can't resist. He'd like to use you as a squeaky-toy, you know.

Oh, I enjoyed writing this. I _really_ hope you enjoyed reading it.

Much love to you all, and congrats if you read the whole way through my _Special-Awesome-Super-Long-Marathon-Chapter_! xD


	14. Chapter 14

...I was checking through my iTunes for suitable song lyrics, and found some severely dodgy lines.

So dodgy, they don't even make it IN. It would be even _more_ disturbing. Primus, the main culprit dares to play now, messing with my mental stability- I'm going to pause it and return.

_(smashes Jetfire/Ratchet laptop with a large hammer)_

I'm a big girl! I had a Hep. B jab the other day, _and_ I got a sticker because my mummy's a nurse- other sixteen year olds don't get _Heppy the Hippo stickers _and certificates for _Bravery_. xD

Anyway, now that you know how amazing my life is, onto more interesting things.

I had a random thought the other day: I completely forgot about _Jolt_. I wonder if this is because he didn't say _anything_ in ROTF? No matter. We don't need him. (Sorry, Jolt. VIPs only.)

Well, I listened to the beautiful people, and I feel like speaking like Soundwave all of a sudden. (_Mmm, **satellites**_.)

Longer chapters; Kibble endeavours. Deleted scenes; Kibble delights in _scribing_ them. You want the twins and Prowlie? You GET the twins and Prowlie. POWER TO THE PEOPLE! (cheers)

This isn't all the Team Three interaction you'll receive- it'll continue into the next chapter, but this one needed to have a little progress besides Prowlie-torture. :P

Ewww, progress. Nearly there, everyone!

Wow. I have a marriage proposal. Thank you very much, **ShadowedBlossom**. But I see you- open your mouth, and remove EVERYTHING. I don't want to be the murderer of your sustenance, or_ you_. And I'd love to marry you, but I'm engaged to half of the mechs in this fic. I'm sorry! They have no choice in the matter. xD

**Clumsy Peg**, I love you. x3 _Be mine._ (flails over the Atlantic in a MEGA-fashion) :D Your review gave me squee-ness from head-to-tippy toe.

Safety precautions, gang!

Get rid of your food- put it on the plate or back in the packet, I don't really mind as long as you DO IT-, place your drinks to _very-far-away_, make sure you're sitting in the centre of your seat, have your oxygen mask handy in case you can't breathe, um... I can't do much about random death. Hurting sides? Um, just** stop laughing**. If you melt into a puddle of GOOP, **stop reading **until you have solidified.

(checks through reviews for similar syndromes)

I think we're good. Just put on your safety belts, and we shall _ride_! xD

* * *

Sideswipe woke with a jolt. It wasn't hard to guess why; the agonised howl raging through the base was horrifyingly loud and excruciatingly painful to hear.

Shaking his helm quickly, he looked around. Prowlie? _Check_. Sunny? _Check_.

_All was well in the world._ He relaxed slightly. "Hey, Sunny, what's-"

His twin suddenly held a golden finger to his lips. "Don't wake _Prowlie!_"

"As if! He's well out of it!"

"Don't underestimate him! He's like, some kind of _ninja_ or something."

"Not even a _ninja_ can shrug off Ratchet's sedatives."

"Has a ninja tried?"

"...Ninja are full of surprises. Who knows?"

"We should get one and find out."

"Where do you propose we find a _ninja_?"

"Dey's masters of stealth, yeaah?"

Sunny had his back to the door, but there was no need to wonder who had come through it- even if the voices hadn't announced their identities, Sideswipe's optics said it all.

"Choo won't be findin' no ninja, cause youse too-" Skids _dared_ to look both Corvette twins up and down. "..._bright_."

"For a moment there, I thought you were going to _amaze_ us with some incredible wit," Sunny hissed, whirling to face the equally vivid twosome.

"Hey, Skids, dat's not true."

"What 'choo chattin'?"

"I's chattin' dat youse _can_ be's brights. Dere's dat ninja dat's orange."

"Orange? Dat's stoopid, Muds."

"Truth!" he confirmed knowledgeably.

"What ninja be this?"

"Me forgets."

"Course you do."

"Jus' de name! ...I knows dat dere be another wit pink hair!"

" _Pink_-?! Muds, youse makin' dis up."

"Noes, I ain'ts!"

"Come on, den! What _else_?"

"...Dere be some emo."

"An emo?_ Emo-ninja_? Dere's no such thing!"

"Dey be workin' wit sharp stuff. It be loge'cal!" Mudflap saw his twin's disbelieving look, and tried to convince him further. "Dey has some old guy dat ain't old, too."

"Youse chattin' _junk_!"

"Noes! He just be havin' grey hairs!"

"Silver, you useless-" Sideswipe managed to control himself. "He has _silver _hair."

"Dat's even more useless! He be shinin' in t'dark!"

"He ain't shinin'-"

Sunny resolved the situation by kicking them soundly out of the room.

Sides, shaking his helm in disgust, went to sit by Prowl's side. The mech should have looked peaceful in recharge, but had a mild frown crossing his faceplates. He gently placed a hand on Prowl's helm and bit his lip. "He's warm, Sunny."

"Means he's alive, doesn't it?" His twin came over regardless, and felt the spot. "Primus! He is! We should get Ratchet, and Red Alert, and Jetfire, and _ everyon_-"

//_NO! **FRAG** YOU, TWINS! PROWL IS FINE!_//

//_There is no ailment afflicting him bar being over-worked_,// Red Alert concurred. //_All he needs rest_.//

Sunny huffed quietly.

Silence had fallen, only to be broken by an almost unbearable wail from somewhere in the base, full of emotions they could not pin down.

Afterwards, a subdued voice called out quietly. "Can we's come backs? We's done."

Saying **_no, you aft-holes_** would be very thrilling. Both Corvettes glanced at their unconscious senior, then realised they couldn't.

_For Prowlie_, Sideswipe sighed.

_And Prowlie **alone**,_ Sunny agreed, then spoke aloud. "Fine. As long as you _behave_."

_You sounded just like our Prowlie,_ his twin sniffled.

Sunny glanced fondly at the black and white. _I tried to_.

The younger twins entered, and shuffled nervously. Skids dodged past his brother, and started to move towards Prowl.

This wasn't a good idea.

Sideswipe narrowed his optics. "Don't even _try_ and cross the Line."

Sunny hissed menacingly. "I _dare_ you to try it."

A hysterical yowl shook through the base.

"That wasn't Arcee," Sides muttered, glancing up.

"Somethin's goin' down, boys!" Mudflap declared gleefully.

Skids shoved him. "Dat's obvious, foo'! "

Mudflap edged closer. "Eh... youse two knows what dose wailin's be's?"

"What wailing?" Sideswipe asked calmly. "I can't hear anything."

"Youse deaf?"

"Would I be answering you if I were?"

Sunny smirked, finally pinning down the origins of the sounds they could hear.

//_It must be the ventilation shafts,_// he informed Sides.

//_What would anyone be doing in there?_//

//_Your guess is as good as mine._//

A snarl reverberated past, suddenly snapping into a squeal.

//_I'll rephrase that. Do you **want** to know?_//

"Youse didn't hear dats?"

"Hear what?" Sunny looked around innocently.

After so many years of not working on Prowlie, they hadn't expected their 'ignorance' to actually be bought by anyone.

However, it seemed that this was not the case.

"Youse can't hear no... yelpin'? No yappin'?"

"No howlin'?"

Sides blinked. "Nope."

"Sounds like someone's been watching-" Sunny caught the sharp glance by his twin and remembered that even accidentally introducing these two to interfacing was going to be a fatal offence. It was taboo, then.

"Watchin' whats?"

"...Too much Discovery Channel?"

Sideswipe cringed. _Good one_.

A quieter whimper echoed past, followed by someone else's snarl.

"Perhaps you've watched a scary movie recently," Sides announced quickly, talking over the sounds. _Sunny, help me out. I can't DO this alone!_

"YES!" Sunny caught on. They could just speak over the random noises.

Someone cried out.

"IT MUST HAVE BEEN TERRIFYING FOR YOU TO BE INFLUENCED THIS BADLY BY IT!" the golden mech shouted loudly.

There was a loud growl accompanied by several thuds.

"MAYBE YOU SHOULD GET TO _**RECHARGE**_! YOUR PROCESSORS ARE MAKING YOU _**IMAGINE**_ THINGS!"

//_What on Cybertron are you talking about, Sideswipe? If you can't hear those bizarre and honestly- never mind... sounds, then you must need a brutal- I mean. **thorough** check-up._//

"No!" Sides blurted aloud, then remembered his comm. //_Do you want Mudflap and Skids to have an **inkling** of whatever's happening?_//

//_My apologies; I thought you were insane. Send them down to Red Alert_.// Ratchet sniggered quietly. //_I'll inform him that they're hearing things._//

//_You're the best, Ratchet._//

//_I know.//_

* * *

Lennox was abruptly woken by some –truthfully enough- unearthly noises. He dived out of his bunk and scrabbled for his sidearm before realising that danger was not imminent. _Dang_ his reflexes.

Instead of shooting holes in random helpless objects (like someone he knew), he picked up the handily close walkie-talkie, dressing as he did so. "Ironhide, you up and about?"

//_Certainly. Why?_//

Lennox paused. "What the hell are you lot up to?"

Ironhide took his time replying. //_...Nothing._//

"Hey, don't think you can lie that badly and get away with it. I know you well enough to-"

The soldier broke off; a loud thud coming from his door indicating someone's arrival.

Lennox retrieved his gun as he walked to the door- you could never be too careful. No one played fairly these days. Back in the good old days, at least being human-sized meant that you could go places huge life-forms couldn't. But no, not anymore. Mind you, it was unlikely that Decepticons would knock.

He opened it to find Sam rubbing his forehead.

"Oh, that's _really_ gonna hurt in the morning, hang on- it hurts _now_! Oh, Lennox, it's _you_-!"

The teen sounded surprised that Lennox would be in his own room at an ungodly hour.

"What's up, kid?"

"Nothing _much_, just, you know, maybe I'm imagining these really creepy screeches and roarinnnng_**s**_...?" Sam clenched his fingers into claws and wiggled them in Lennox's face. "And similar sounds to the same effect-"

There was a loud explosion. Sam yelped and crumpled to the floor, claw-hands twitching spasmodically.

Lennox addressed the walkie-talkie. "Hey, Ironhide. If you're gonna blow stuff up, couldn't you give us some warning?"

//_Apologies. I was venting._//

Sam grabbed the walkie-talkie, dragged it down to his level and howled into it. "_WHAT'S GOING **ONNNNN**_? ...Will, is this working?"

The soldier sighed. "Yes, Sam."

//..._The base isn't in danger, and we're all fine._//

Lennox frowned incredulously at the walkie-talkie. Sam looked at him.

"Roger that, Ironhide. We're coming down_._"

//_Not a good idea._//

"I thought you said nothing was wrong, _Ironhiiiide_."

* * *

The black mech smashed his helm into a wall. Why were humans so inquisitive? Why did they contact _him_? Couldn't they have tried someone who found it easy to make up convincing stories? "I did."

Sam's voice bellowed suddenly. //_I'M GONNA FIND 'BEE!_//

Ironhide winced, and nursed his audio receptors. He had contacted Optimus, who said that he had already been assaulted by a singed, leg-wielding Wheeljack and was on his way to check out the situation.

//_That settles it,_// Lennox declared. //_Me too._//

Damn. He'd have to cut them off. "If I said it was in your best interests to not?"

//_Just what are you doing? **Raving**?//_

There was a dignified silence as Ironhide ignored this stupid suggestion.

His helm snapped up as Megatron's disembodied voice floated past. "_You're_ _going to **learn** from **this** one, I tell you_-"

He was cut off by a panicked screech.

And a hysterical howl.

The latter belonged to Sam, who had unfortunately recognised the voice. //_HOLY MOJO! THAT'S **MEGATRON**!_//

* * *

Lennox frowned at him. "You sure, kid?"

Sam nodded frantically, head jiggling up and down repeatedly.

"'hide, you heard Sam."

_//He must be **mistaken**,//_ Ironhide insisted, kicking the wall aggressively.

Megatron unfortunately chose this moment to bellow. "_You think THAT will get you out of ANYTHING?_"

It was followed by a despairing wail.

There was a short silence, until Lennox spoke thoughtfully. "Sam _has_ enjoyed a lot of time with Megatron. It's unlikely that these personal experiences are '_mistaken'._"

//_Well, he must be!_//

Lennox could have sworn Ironhide muttered something about '_less personal experience that some unfortunates',_ but he couldn't be sure.

Sam bit his already chewed nails. "I could have sworn it was him-"

"I_, **MEGATRON**, THE LEADER OF THE **DECEPTICONS**, SHALL MAKE YOU_-"

Lennox scratched his head._ "..._'hide, you still sure_?"_

There was another explosion.

* * *

By the time Lennox and Sam managed to exit the human sector, there were no more alarming sounds.

Just as well, Lennox reflected. Sam was twitching like a squirrel that had mixed drugs, sugar, and caffeine. Very rock and roll, but not very fun to be around.

Ironhide mysteriously materialised before them.

Sam shrieked and ducked behind Lennox, who grabbed him by the shoulders. "Sam, Sam. _Focus_. It's _Ironhide_."

The teenager's eyes were decidedly **un**focused. Will snapped his fingers right in his face to no avail.

Sam blinked and declared something in another language.

Ironhide leaned closer incredulously.

Noises a human would find difficult to utter were choking forth from Sam. Lennox, worried, wondered aloud if he should call a medic.

"No," Ironhide assured. "He isn't insane. He's speaking a form of Cybertronian."

"Well, that's _perfectly_ normal."

"It's weird," the black mech scowled. "I would guess Ratchet would like to see him."

"Ratchet _likes_ to see people?"

The thought hung in the air. Ironhide decided it would be easier to carry Sam then to have him dive to the floor for no particular reason every minute.

Besides, he realised, at least whilst distracted by thoughts of Ratchet and the medbay, they wouldn't be asking questions about the whole Megatron-Starscream thing.

* * *

Ratchet snarled. "What in the Pit _is_ going on?"

Red Alert moved his bishop. "I do not know, Sir. But it sounds rather troubling."

"Let's finish the game first." Ratchet rubbed his chin. "Hmm."

He picked up his castle, and moved it four places when-

A roar burst into life- then broke off into what sounded like a deep, pained groan.

Red Alert twitched.

"Cover your audios, I'll find out what's going on." Ratchet would sacrifice himself for the innocence of his junior. "Fool around with Skids and Mudflap. They mustn't know what's going on, you hear me?"

The ambulance frowned, then nodded. "Good luck, sir."

"You'll need it, not I."

* * *

Ratchet wandered around the corridors. _Where the heck was the point of origin?_

After a loud crash and a decidedly brief whine, there was silence again- oh, not quite. _Luckily_ for Ratchet, his incredibly sensitive audio receptors picked up what sounded like heavy panting.

Primus. Did he want to know what was going on?

Someone screamed. "HOLY **_FRRRAAAAAAAAAAG_**!"

It sounded like Optimus.

"STOP THAT! _FREEEEEEZE_! NO, DON'T FREEZE, IT MAKES IT _WORSE_-"

The shrieking broke off suddenly. Maybe Optimus had fainted.

"PRIMUS! WHY DOES THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN!? I THOUGHT YOU WERE RESPONSIBLE! YOU KNOW, THE WHOLE-"

Obviously he was still online. Ratchet hurried around another corner, and saw Hot Rod stumbling out of the labs, clutching a trembling Bumblebee.

He knelt down beside them. "Hot Rod-"

"**_I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING,"_** he yelled, optics squeezed tightly shut. "**_I'VE BEEN TOLD TO SWITCH OFF MY AUDIOS! BUMBLEBEE KNOWS, I THINK_**!"

Ratchet, wincing and reeling back from the sheer volume, tried to give him a pained grimace of a smile.

"Bumblebee! Talk to me! What's going on?"

"_JOYRIDE- how did it end up like this-!_"

Ratchet bit his lip. "You have to give me more than that-"

_"Now they're going to bed, and my stomach is sick-_ _I just can't look- you're a **pervert**!"_

"Are they in there?"

_"You got me poppin' champagne-! Take this all the way-" _The young Autobot nodded, then shook his helm violently.

"They're going to get aft-whooped, whoever they are. Look what they've done to you! I tell you now, if it's-"

Bumblebee whimpered. _"He's a scumbag, don't you know...? Mr Inconspicuous-"_

"I'm going to go in, okay? Stay here. I'll be back in a minute."

Ratchet disappeared into the room. Bumblebee shuddered. Hot Rod squeezed him comfortingly.

"Bumblebee! Come in, have a look; it's not what you thought." Optimus had appeared at the door, and gestured for him to enter.

Bumblebee continued to shake quietly, and reached for his hand nervously.

"You can open your optics...! It's alright- well, alright-ish."

The small mech was hiding behind the reassuringly large and safe Prime. He felt secure enough to crack open his optics, and saw Megatron and Starscream just... there. Still in the shaft. Same- well, practically the same position, except Starscream looked incredibly battered, and Megatron's interfacing panel had taken what looked like serious damage.

Ratchet watched the scout worriedly. He was shaking his helm, frowning, and narrowing his optics.

He pointed at the Decepticons. "_Let me be specific! You suck my battleship- let's do it like they do on the Discovery CHANNEL-"_

"Bumblebee?"

"_Every penny don't fit the slot- we love our love in different sizes- I can work this thing on top..!."_

The yellow Autobot shrieked suddenly, and hurtled towards a window. "_And if he's XXL- well, what the hell? We call this the act of mating!"_

Optimus managed to grab him around the middle before he managed to reach his target.

"Bumblebee! Calm down! You must have imagined something. It's a somewhat unusual position, that's all-"

Jazz dropped in through the window, and took in the situation. "...Did I miss something?"

Bumblebee twisted round to glare once again at the unsuccessful infiltrators.

_"_You know, _I'd appreciate your **input**..._" Megatron hissed with a smirk.

Was it Bumblebee's imagination, or did Megatron's hips move subtly at this? He couldn't take anymore. Promptly, his processor overloaded.

_

* * *

_

Optimus cringed as Bumblebee passed out.

Jazz's visor flashed in confusion. "Did I do that?"

"Where the hell were you just now?" Ratchet scowled.

"I was just checking the roof. They did come in from the top down-"

"Wonderful, but that's not so important right now." Optimus handed the limp scout to Ratchet, and glared up at Megatron. "Why are you here?"

"Why do you think?"

"I don't know. It's why I asked."

"ARRG!"

"...Could you possibly get off of Starscream? It's a bit distracting."

Megatron, who was still crouching over the Seeker, growled. "No, I can't!"

"Woah, steady," Jazz sniggered.

"_You_-!" The Decepticon attempted to explain. "I can't get _off-_"

"Well, can you get it _on_...?" Jazz shrieked with laughter as an infuriated cannon blast shot by him.

"I'M GOING TO DESTR-"

Ratchet rolled his optics. "Yeah, yeah. As usual. What's your problem?"

Megatron breathed out deeply. "I am stuck."

"_Stuck on youuuuuuuu-"_ Jazz cackled with glee and backflipped to avoid the extremely fast fusion blast.

Optimus pursed his lips, remembering one of Sideswipe's replies to a question. _Above the labs? _"Let me guess- a load of wires?"

"YOUR BASE IS IN PATHETIC CONDITION!"

"How do you know that they're not _supposed_ to be there?"

"Whatever, _slagger_. I'm not going to debate tidiness with you. I cannot get off of this _useless_ piece of _USELESS_ until he unbinds his _useless_ hands, then releases me. Then, I'm going to have to batter him properly for being so _useless_." He paused and backhanded Starscream as he whined miserably. "Once we are not joined together, this will be simpler. _He won't be running anywhere_."

This creepy sentence was left an appropriately disturbed silence, only to be broken by a ridiculously cheery Jazz.

"_Bind us togetherrrrrrr, Lorrrrrd_..."

Megatron's snarl was very final.

Too bad Jazz wasn't in the mood for _final_.

_"I'm bringing sexy back- _yeah_!"_

"...Megatron."

The quietly thoughtful voice intruded upon Megatron's fantasies of tearing the rage-inducing dwarf from limb to limb.

"What, _Prime_?"

"I have a proposition for you."

"Oh, you do? That's _nice_."

"Presently, we Autobots are doing something a little different-"

Ah! This must be the SCHEME!

"-and, it might benefit you to join us."

"**_NNNNNNEEEEEVVVVEEERRRRR_**!" Megatron roared, jiggling an arm violently in protest.

This movement jostled Starscream, who whimpered unhappily, now unable to object at all.

To his credit, Optimus calmly raised an optic ridge. "You _idiot_. Not the _Autobots_."

"Oh. What, then?"

Jazz grinned wickedly, and disappeared quietly. Perhaps it was time to _think_ up some activities.

Ratchet followed, muttering about Bumblebee, Hot Rod and the imagination of youth.

Megatron frowned in concentration as Optimus explained the theory behind the scheme.

His leg was beginning to ache from not moving, so he wiggled it slightly. Finding that he had some leeway, he kicked out a little.

Starscream squawked in feeble protest as his arms were yanked roughly back and forth, and his helm collided several times with the Unicron-forsaken interfacing panel.

_Why didn't Primus love him? Why didn't he care? What humiliation. What utter shame._

Megatron snarled viciously from the painful contact with the damaged area, and brutally swung at his second.

Optimus winced in sympathy as Starscream yelped and fell unconscious.

"You were saying?"

Optimus closed his optics. He might regret this. "I think you two should form a team."

"We _are_ a team."

"Correct me if I am mistaken, but you two don't scream _team_ when I see you."

"You're right, we certainly do _not_. How unthreatening would that sound? Whatever; I'm not being on a team with _him_."

"You just said you _were_ a team."

"So I lied. Forget it. It's a nancy-pancy Autobot scheme which I shall have no part in. And neither will _he_."

The flamed Autobot sighed. He could not believe he was about to say this. "...You realise that if you two worked together efficiently, the Decepticon cause would benefit greatly?"

Megatron paused. "How so?"

"Think about it."

Megatron did so. "I concede your point, but no. What would we be doing, anyway?"

Optimus rubbed his helm. "A lot of things are undecided, but there will be a series of challenges to overcome. At the moment, the teams are just getting used to each other by spending plenty of time together."

"...Very well." Clearly Megatron had made a decision. "You obviously won't just let us out of here without consequence, and any consequence that advances the Decepticon cause is acceptable."

"So you'll do it?"

"We will."

Optimus resisted the urge to run around in triumph. "Swear to not kill anyone whilst you're here?"

_Darn the mech_! "...Fine."

"Or maim anyone?"

"I do."_ Primus, it hurt to say it_.

"Try not to step on humans should you see them?"

Megatron shuddered. "Ugh, humans. You keep them here?"

"I do not keep humans. Some reside here of their own free will." Optimus mentally noted to keep Sam far away from Megatron, regardless.

"Fine."

"Including 'accidentally'?"

"Yes! Happy?"

"I suppose so." Optimus gestured at him. "Do you need a hand?"

"I'm fine."

Seeing the Autobot stare back pointedly, Megatron sighed. "No. I'll just wait for _useless_ here to wake up." He slapped the Seeker, who cringed into consciousness. "Hurry up and untie me, _useless_."

Starscream shook his helm to try and clear it, and squeaked in pain. Bracing himself, he tried to sit up, but a searing pain shot through him, and he collapsed back with a whimper.

Megatron growled threateningly.

"M-master, I can't-"

"You shall _feel_ my wrath."

"But-"

"It will be painful, swift, and long-lasting-"

"Swift _and_ long-lasting?" Optimus enquired.

Megatron ignored him and narrowed his optics at his Air Commander.

"My liege, I can't-! I-"

Optimus couldn't let this continue. He looked around for a suitable point, grasped the edge of the broken ventilation shaft and pulled himself up.

He crawled over to the Decepticons, and whistled at Megatron's leg. "You sure know how to get tangled well and truly."

"Shut up."

Optimus realised that he couldn't reach Megatron's leg from this angle, and Starscream was blocking the way underneath.

"I'm going to have to lean over the top of you."

"Then hurry up and do it!"

The Autobot carefully crawled as close as he could and found Megatron's aft looming in his face. "...I didn't know you had this etching."

"What etching?" Megatron was confused.

"On your aft. It's in seems to be paint, and says: CAUTION, WIDE LOAD."

"You're making this up."

"Why would I do that? Honestly, it's there, beaming at me."

Starscream choked weakly. This was a big mistake. Megatron snapped his helm down and glared menacingly. "This is your doing."

"I wouldn't _do_ that, my liege...?"

He trailed off unconvincingly as Megatron narrowed his optics and snarled. "You're going to suffer. I'll_ give _you_ **cau**__**tion**_."

Optimus kneeled behind his brother. "Here we go."

* * *

Ratchet walked back in to collect Bumblebee, who stirred briefly.

Funnily enough, Optimus was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they had gone-

He glanced up. Ratchet had seen many distressing things in his career. This was plain _disturbing_.

Okay, so it had been bad enough with Megatron and Starscream, but that was just _them_.

The disturbing part was _his_ commander mounting his own brother.

"Nearly got it," Prime grunted, straining forwards.

"I can feel it," Megatron murmured, shifting weight from one leg to the other.

Starscream whined and arched his back in anticipation.

Ratchet dropped the wrench he hadn't realised he was wielding- so shocked was he, he could not throw it.

Bumblebee whimpered from the floor. Ratchet quickly dropped to his knees, hoping he wasn't too late, and the scout hadn't been poisoned.

Optimus growled in concentration. "Just a...little further-!"

"Can't we speed this up?" Starscream demanded eagerly.

"You got us into this mess, you glitch. And don't think I've forgotten that you need to be appropriately disciplined."

Ratchet couldn't take anymore. "WHAT THE PIT ARE YOU DOING?"

Optimus jumped in shock and fell over backwards out of the shaft.

Megatron snarled. "Now look at what you've done. Starscream, finish this."

Starscream twisted forwards and yelped as he yanked something.

Ratchet's optics twitched.

Optimus clambered to his feet, rubbing his helm. "That should be the last one."

Megatron nodded with satisfaction, and got to his feet- forgetting that he was in the remains of a ventilation shaft. He smashed his helm into the upper part, and tumbled to the floor with a crash.

"HAHA!" He sprang to his feet and laughed evilly, clenching his claws impressively.

Optimus would not be outdone. He placed his hands on his hips heroically, and nobly lifted his chin, closing his optics valiantly.

"...Optimus."

He cracked open one optic. "Yes, Ratchet?"

Megatron sniggered suddenly, and relaxed his pose. "You _lost_! You're losing your touch. You used to last for longer than _that_."

Ratchet faintly remembered two younglings engaging in varying and annoyingly frequent competitions. A common one was the Hold-Your-Pose-And-Make-It-**_Good_** contest.

"Not fair!"

"I always used to win, so don't worry."

It was true. As the elder, with the dignity of age and superiority of maturity, Megatron had more patience than the scarily hyperactive Optimus.

"But I won sometimes! I remember it!"

"I felt sorry for you," Megatron scowled. "The distressed look on your faceplates wasn't worth it."

"We're going to be gracious hosts, Ratch. I'll explain on the way to the medbay." Optimus picked up Bumblebee, and all three turned to leave.

Megatron frowned and paused, feeling oddly incomplete. He whirled around to see Starscream still skulking in the ventilation shaft.

"Move yourself, Starscream!"

"No."

"What do you mean, _no_?"

Starscream shuffled further away. "I'm not coming out just so you can attack me."

"You'd be wise if you did," Megatron replied ominously, not even bothering to lie. "Get down here _now_."

Starscream cowered in the shaft.

"_Don't_ make me come up there and get you."

_Oh, for a flightless Megatron. _The Seeker whined, wings twitching frantically.

Megatron saw the indecision and knew he had won. "_Now_."

Starscream flattened his wings, cautiously crept to the edge and dropped down, almost landing on his face when an injured leg crumpled beneath the sudden burden, leaving him cringing on the ground before Megatron.

He winced in anticipation of harsh word and blows-

"Good boy," Megatron purred. He leant down and scratched one of his wings affectionately, then stood again. He waved a book in Optimus' face as he strode past. "Always make sure they come to _you_."

A confused Starscream limped heavily to the door, whimpering with each step.

The odd procession headed down the corridor.

They continued for a short distance, but it wasn't much of a secret that Megatron was not the most tolerant of mechs.

Suddenly he stopped walking, and glared at the lagging Seeker.

"Will you _stop_ your incessant whining?"

"It _hurts_, my liege!"

"Where?"

Ratchet snorted at the question and continued walking with Optimus. "It's going to hurt him _everywhere_."

Megatron scowled. "Is this true?"

Starscream gave a tiny nod.

There was a deep sigh from the bigger Decepticon.

"I can cope, my lord, I'll stop-"

Megatron retraced his steps to the quivering Seeker and picked him up.

By a wing.

Starscream screeched and writhed in agony.

Optimus watched as Megatron quickly consulted a book, then adjusted his grip to his scruff.

Starscream quietened somewhat.

Megatron continued walking and passed the Autobots as if nothing was as normal as a Starscream dangling from his hand.

Starscream pouted moodily and kicked his legs pathetically. "Will you _put_ me down? I can walk-"

He was dropped immediately. "Then _do _so."

Wincing, Starscream attempted to get to his feet, but no matter how hard he strained, his legs would not bear him.

He whined in frustration. Megatron glared down at him for a moment, but then his gaze softened.

He gathered the Seeker into his arms carefully and lifted him properly.

Starscream cringed at the contact before realising that his commander meant no harm, and eventually relaxed and snuggled a little into the arms encircling him.

Damn his pride, he couldn't be bothered with it.

* * *

It was some time later that Ratchet found himself with nobody to repair.

Red Alert had already reattached Wheeljack's leg, to his dismay. He liked watching the idiot squirm in pain. Well, it was his revenge/reward for having to put up with that infuriating smile of the engineer.

After giving Optimus sufficient grief and scowls enough for a lifetime, he had repaired both Megatron and Starscream.

He had felt like setting Red Alert loose on both of them, but decided against it; it wouldn't be fair to let his junior get close and personal with Megatron's interfacing panel.

_And_ it gave Ratchet plenty of opportunities to reaffirm his reputation.

Upon first inspection-glance at Megatron's injuries, he had jabbed at the panel roughly with a finger.

Megatron had snarled and twitched in discomfort.

"What on Cybertron were you _doing_ to attain this damage?"

"I didn't do anything. Starscream did it."

"You know what? I don't want to know."

Megatron had smirked. "...I'm not MEGA for nothing, medic."

"I'll give you _medic_, you overgrown femme," Ratchet had smirked disarmingly right back. "You'll remember that you're in my hands."

He then cracked his knuckles and smiled. Megatron had never seen such a smile.

He felt afraid.

* * *

Ratchet yawned and sat down in a plushy chair in Bumblebee's room. The scout was still out of it, but he'd be up and about soon.

They were having a discussion about his mental state.

Optimus waved a hand. "Come on, Jazz. He _must_ have imagined it. There's no way he could have seen anything."

Ratchet concurred. "He's young; they have vivid imaginations."

Red Alert, who had been filled in, had another suggestion. "Or, he could have _thought_ that he saw something."

Ratchet silently agreed. After all, _he_ had thought Starscream, Megatron and Optimus had been up to something.

Ironhide had a different opinion altogether. "Then again, he could be telling the truth."

Jazz paused. "It might _not_ be that he's insane."

Optimus sighed. "Explain that, Jazz."

"Wellll... I exited through the window to check out the roof."

"That doesn't mean anythi-" Ratchet hit himself. "How long?"

Jazz wrung his hands guiltily. "I know I shouldn't have done it-"

"How _long_, Jazz?!"

"A couple of minutes, five at the _most_-"

Even the Head Of Special Operations couldn't dodge the incredibly accurately and forcefully thrown monitor that an irate Ratchet had just hurled. "YOWCH!"

Ratchet grabbed him by his audio receptor. "You stupid, idiotic- I thought Optimus had been in there from the beginning!"

Optimus stood, hands spread pleadingly. "I must be missing something...! Fill me in, somebody!"

Ratchet snarled and shook the mortified mech, lifting him off of the floor. "Why don't _you_ explain, you _responsible_ type?"

Jazz drooped mournfully. "...Oh, no, that's alright, you ca- ow!_** Okay**_!" He seemed to shrink into himself as he addressed Optimus without actually making optic-contact. "...Uh, boss, before you arrived on scene, there was a tiny, little, weeny, miniscule, itsy bitsy- please don't shake me-! ...There was a brief period in which __."

Optimus blinked. "Pardon?"

Ratchet gripped Jazz's scruff firmly, and hoisted him higher into the air. "This _excuse_ for a senior officer left Hot Rod and Bumblebee _alone_ in the same room as Megatron and Starscream. For _five _minutes."

"Five _max_...!" Jazz wailed. "They _technically_ weren't in the same room! They were above...?"

Optimus blinked again. Looked at the motionless Bumblebee. Looked at the blank Hot Rod, who was staring holes in the wall.

"**_JAAAAAAZZ_**!"

"It wasn't like they did anything! They couldn't move! I reasoned that they couldn't have attacked-"

"You left Bumblebee and Hot Rod in the same room as the two most _dangerous_ Decepticons-!"

"It's not just that that I'm worried about," Ratchet glowered.

Optimus frowned at him.

"Think about _innocent_ young processors, Prime."

Ratchet sighed with relief as Optimus snapped his fingers in realisation, then continued to berate the saboteur. "...Exactly, Jazz! You know how violent they can be towards each other! And especially if Starscream can't get away-"

Ratchet shot a disbelieving glance towards Red Alert.

Ironhide's sigh was momentous.

Even Jazz managed to frown at Optimus incredulously in the middle of his reprimand.

"You'll be lucky if this night hasn't scarred their processors _forever_-"

Bumblebee woke up screaming. _"GOD KNOWS WHERE WE STUCK IT!"_

Sam, who had been stretched out asleep next to the mech, howled, snapping awake as his ears were assaulted.

He didn't howl in English.

Megatron burst through the door dramatically. "Who is that speaking? I do not recognise them!"

Optimus slammed down a hand on the bed in an attempt to hide Sam.

"NO ONE is speaking but us," he declared as the human wriggled past him and narrowed his eyes at Megatron.

"Why is he wearing a nappy?"

There was a silence as the Cybertronians consulted the internet.

Megatron glanced down at his freshly-meshed pelvis.

Optimus swallowed a giggle. "He's right, you know. You could be sporting a nappy."

Lennox groaned from his position on Ironhide's shoulder, and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Didn't the kid have _any_ common sense?

Megatron growled and glared at the teenager. "HOLY FRAG! IT'S _HIM_! I'm going to _grasp_ him so hard that he _bursts _and his _juices_ flow_-"_

Sam finally seemed to realise that it was Megatron, and hurled himself off of the berth in an attempt to escape.

In this case, it wouldn't have been very successful, as he would have broken himself in the collision with the floor.

Handily, he had some Autobot friends.

Optimus scooped him up in mid-drop, and held him protectively.

Megatron twitched, then had a sudden processor wave. "Squeeze him."

"Wh- no, Megatron!"

"No, seriously! This isn't about our personal grudge-" With this, the Decepticon's evilles ascended to a new level of _Evil_. "-honestly, just squeeze him. It's the best fun."

"We'll discuss your hobbies another time," Optimus frowned. "You need to get out more."

"Whatever, youngling. I was partying _way_ before you were even speaking properly. I'll show you-" He lunged for Sam.

"As if!" Optimus clutched Sam to his chassis.

"Give him here!"

"No!"

"Give!"

"Shan't!"

Ratchet and Ironhide were catapulted back through time as they watched the commanders squabble.

Reminiscing was all well and good, but a squashed Sam wasn't.

Ratchet snuck up behind the Decepticon and, unnoticed, tranquilized him. "Megatron, why don't we go and sit down?" he asked, soothingly.

Megatron blinked. "...No. I want the human."

Ratchet upped the dosage and tried again. "How about now?"

Megatron swayed blearily. "Hoo-muhn!"

Rolling his optics, Ratchet injected him yet _again_, then pushed him towards the door.

This time, there were no complaints. An oddly docile Megatron pattered with Ratchet down the corridor.

"Come on, Megatron," he sighed. "I've things to do tonight."

"'m tired, Ratch," the huge mech yawned, toddling with him.

Yes, _toddling_.

"I bet you are," the CMO replied.

Megatron suddenly stopped and stared through a window into someone's room.

"What now?"

Megatron's face lit up and he pressed his hands against the glass in awe. "Wowwww..."

"Is it the candyman?" Ratchet wondered dryly.

"Noooo!" Megatron pointed excitedly and clapped. "Ratch, can I have one? Please, please?"

"Have a what...?" Ratchet peered through the glass and saw Starscream lying in the berth. "No, you can't."

"Pleaaaase- I'll be good! I'll look after him!"

Ratchet sighed and tried to tug him away. "He can look after himself, you know."

"But-"

"No buts, Megatron." Ratchet heaved on the arm, but he didn't budge. "Come, now. Don't you want a lie-down?"

"I can lie down in _there_," Megatron pleaded.

"Definitely _not_." Ratchet had inspiration. "You can't have him; you've got to look after Optimus, remember?"

Megatron hummed fondly. "Course I do, the little glitch."

He allowed himself to be pulled away into the room next door, where he bounced on the berth excitedly.

Ratchet tucked him up in the blanket, at the same time wondering if he had given the mech tranquilizers or painkillers. Or just drugs of general insanity.

He was about to exit the room when Megatron called out. "Nightnights, Ratchy."

"...Goodnight, Megatron."

* * *

He returned to Bumblebee's room, passing Red Alert in the corridor, who was off to check on Wheeljack.

"I hope he's not in pain," the other medic smiled.

Was it just a smile, or was there a slight tinge of glee?

Ratchet shook his helm and opened the door. Could today _get_ weirder?

Ironhide was scratching his helm. "Why, Prime? Why invite _them_ onto our base?"

Optimus, standing at the open window, tilted his helm back and looked to the stars. "...I'd like to think that Megatron still has some goodness within him. Maybe this will help."

Jazz pursed his lips. "You've got to be kidding."

There was unchecked sorrow in his next words. "...I can't just give up on my own brother, Jazz. Would you?"

Jazz thought of all the mechs he considered his brothers. "No, Optimus. I wouldn't."

Ironhide gestured at the sky. "Don't you think you've given him enough chances? Enough endless time and effort? Wasted enough hope?"

Ratchet scowled. "You've gone further for him than anybody could ever expect-"

"Further than anybody else would go for their brother," Ironhide scowled.

"-and suffered more than most Autobots and Decepticons know. But there's a bit of a difference between the leader of the Decepticons, and-"

"Hope is never wasted, and my decision is final. You know I don't use my title much, but if I have to, I will. If it has to be an order, then it will be given."

"...Prowl is going to fritz, you know that?"

Ironhide huffed. "_I'm_ going to fritz. Megatron _and_ Starscream, and I can't shoot them?"

Ratchet shook his helm. "I hope your faith is rewarded, Optimus."

Jazz scratched his audio receptor. Well, whatever. This was sure to be a laugh.

"Bumblebee, there's nothing to worry about," Optimus announced, smiling at the scout. "We'll set up a meeting or something for tomorrow, just us and Megatron and Starscream. We'll sort this misunderstanding out."

* * *

**_The next day... :D_**

Jazz cringed as Bumblebee and Hot Rod entered the room, the yellow mech freezing at the sight of Megatron and Starscream.

Hot Rod prepared himself as he waited for his teammate to faint again. "Do it now, Bumblebee, before I forget to catch you."

There was silence as they watched for Bumblebee's reaction.

He continued into the room and sat at Team Two's allocated table.

The awkward quiet still reigned. Jazz left, muttering something about needing to find something, followed immediately by Hot Rod.

Eventually, Bumblebee turned round to face both Decepticons.

His gaze lingered on Starscream, optics flitting up and down his frame.

There was a pause whilst his antennae rose slightly.

"_Aiiiiiir hostess, I like the way you dress_-"

Starscream hurled himself at the scout, howling dementedly.

Optimus watched this display. "That's a point. When _did_ Starscream get a paint job?"

"...When I gave him one."

"I won't ask- but just one question. Why red, blue and white?"

Megatron shrugged. "It struck me as funny, I guess."

"...Could you restrain him, please?"

Megatron pulled a book from subspace and flicked through.

Starscream threw himself at Bumblebee, who was diving beneath tables.

"What are you doing?"

The Decepticon sighed and lowered the novel. "I'm getting tips on how to handle the state of affairs."

Optimus' cheek twitched. "I didn't realise you were such a comedian. If you're just going to sit there, I'll deal-"

"No, you won't. It _specifically_ states the _owner_ should discipline their-"

Starscream managed to catch one of Bumblebee's doorwings and jumped on him, snarling.

"Hurry up and _do something, _then_!_"

Megatron sighed, and stood up calmly, walking to the pile. There was a slight pause as he assessed the situation.

Optimus crossed the room to stand nearby, wondering what he was going to do. "...What is he doing to Bumblebee?"

Megatron held out an arm, blocking his path. "He's attempting to show his dominance. It's perfectly normal."

"Well, no, no, no, _no_!" Seeing his brother look unconvinced, Optimus thought quickly. "If he manages to assert himself on Bumblebee, then he might think he can assert himself on _you_."

The Decepticon frowned, then nodded. "True."

Optimus managed to scoop the scout away as Megatron grabbed the raging Seeker by the scruff.

"It's okay, Bumblebee. He's not going to hurt you."

Megatron hefted a wriggling Starscream into the air. "No _dominating_. That was naughty, Starscream."

The Decepticon scowled and bit him.

Megatron hissed. "_No_!"

This was punctuated by a hard cuff.

Starscream yelped and tried to twist away, but Megatron shook him.

"No biting, no dominating."

Starscream whined unhappily. "_He_ started it!"

"And I finished it, as always." The commander waited for his subordinate to droop, then dropkicked him. "Get back to your seat."

"One second, Megatron," Optimus appealed as Starscream smashed into the wall opposite. He turned to Bumblebee, who was nursing a damaged arm. "You know why this happened? Because you said something cruel to Starscream. That's what happens when you're bad."

Bumblebee pouted.

Optimus pressed on. "You shouldn't have done it, though, should you? No, you shouldn't. It was mean of you. Say sorry."

Megatron beckoned a scowling Starscream over, and Bumblebee glared at him.

Optimus nudged the scout gently. "Do it."

"..._Je ne regrette rien!_"

Starscream growled, tensing.

Bumblebee's optics narrowed._ "Push it out, fake a-fst- scream-fst- avert disaster, just in time-"_

Optimus sighed and turned the yellow mech to face him. "Bumblebee, listen to me. Nothing happened. You imagined it."

_"-she didn't want to, he had his way- shut your mouth, we're gonna do it my way-"_

Starscream leapt forwards with a snarl, but Megatron managed to grab him mid-leap and threw him to the floor, pinning him there with the mere force of his gaze. "What did I just say?"

_"-say who's your daddy, who puts you in your place-"_

Optimus uselessly clamped a hand over Bumblebee's mouth. "He doesn't know what he's saying- young minds, eh...?"

He laughed nervously.

Megatron sensed that Starscream was preparing to spring, so he stamped on him. "Stop it."

_"Get down, get down- stay down, stay down for daddy!"_

Optimus exhaled heavily and shook his helm. "They were too busy attacking each other, Bumblebee. You saw how badly Starscream was injured, didn't you? He was nearly-"

_"-talks back to me, and I slap her- she falls unconsciously, and I tap her-"_

Megatron raised an optic ridge. "This is getting somewhat ludicrous, Optimus."

Starscream growled and strained to get up from the floor.

"I have an idea," Megatron declared.

_"Are you hungry for a little more than what you had before-?"_

"I _suggest_ we discuss it without such interruptions."

Optimus nodded, and pushed Bumblebee out of the door. "Bumblebee, I think Jetfire and Wheeljack are doing something with Sam. Running some tests to see if they can work out what's going on in his mind. Why don't you go give him some support? Not to mention bodyguarding from explosions," he added thoughtfully.

Bumblebee rocketed away.

Optimus turned back to Megatron. "What was that book you were reading?"

"Ah, it's my secret."

"Come on...! What's it about?"

Everything, really," Megatron admitted.

"Is it a series?"

"I don't know. Probably."

Starscream whined. Megatron remembered that he was still recovering from heavy damage, so he promptly picked him up and carried him out.

"Where are you going?" Optimus asked, bewildered.

Starscream growled and wriggled, but Megatron didn't let go. "Medbay," he replied.

Optimus sighed, and decided that he'd go check on Sam as well. He might as well see what all the explosions were about.

* * *

He was approaching the labs when he heard a sudden shout from the teenager. With a frown, he sped up.

Jetfire sounded very worried. "Wheeljack, what does it even do?"

Optimus could just tell Wheeljack was giving his Reassuring Smile. "Nothing much."

Unfortunately, Optimus remembered too late that the Reassuring Smile was assuredly followed by Doom.

He entered the labs just in time to see Bumblebee dive in the way of a tendril of light speeding for Sam.

When it hit his armour, it expanded, licking over the metal and spreading like wildfire, heating up and sparking aggressively.

Sam threw up a hand to protect his eyes but found Optimus was already shielding him.

The bots watched, frozen in shock, as the searing blaze suddenly raged around the yellow mech until they could see him no more.

The heat abruptly receded and all that was out of place was the soft blue light _dancing_- for there was no other word for it- around Bumblebee.

As the light faded, Optimus' fingers slowly uncurled from around Sam, who blinked in the sudden light.

"Oh, bummer..." Jetfire voiced his brilliant thoughts.

"Wheeljack." Optimus bit his lip. "You've got some explaining to do."

* * *

_Deleted Scene_

"Choo won't be findin' no ninja, cause youse too..." Skids _dared_ to look both Lamborghini twins up and down. "..._bright_."

"For a moment there, I thought you were going to _amaze_ us with some incredible wit," Sunny hissed, whirling to face the equally vivid twosome.

"Hey, Skids. Dat's not true."

"What 'choo chattin'?"

"I's chattin' dat youse _can_ be's brights. Dere's dat ninja dat's orange."

"Orange? Dat's stoopid, Muds."

There was a slight pause. "...Yeah, it is."

Sideswipe sighed. Sunny flung his hands in the air in exasperation.

Skids hit his brother. "You foo'! Dat's not th'line!"

Mudflap drooped. "F'got! I'm sorry!"

Hot Rod yawned. "You have to _feel_ your lines. You're clearly not in character."

Sunny shook his helm. "What the Pit do you mean, in character? We ARE the characters!"

Bumblebee sprang between them. "_CUT!_"

The twins all folded their arms and glared.

"It's their fault!"

Bumblebee frowned at Mudflap. "_Remember the words I wrote to you!"_

"Soz, 'bee. I's go through script more properly next times."

Bumblebee narrowed his optics and thrust a script at him. "_Check it out now-!_"

This prompted a break, and the set slowly emptied, except for the Corvette twins and one other.

Sunny walked to Prowl's berth. "Hey, Prowlie. We're on break, so you can stretch for a bit. ...Prowlie?"

Sides took a look, and gently nudged the unresponsive black and white. "I don't believe this. Is he recharging?"

Sunny gaped suddenly. "IS HE DEAD?"

They hurriedly checked for vital signs, but couldn't find any. "NOOO! PROWLIE! _PRRRROOOOOWLLIIIIIIIIIIE_!"

"RATCHET! RED ALERT! HURRRY!"

No one came.

"It's too late. He's ..._gone_, Sides." Sunny covered his mouth with a hand, and his chassis shook with emotion.

Sideswipe bit his lips, then sighed, and went to sit by Prowl. "I can't believe it. He was scowling at us not long ago-! ...At least it's not _so_ bad. At least- he does look happy, Sunny."

"So peaceful," Sunny agreed, gently taking one of Prowl's hands.

His twin took the other, and they sat there quietly for a moment.

_"_I can't believe I never saw it before. He's so_ beautiful, _Sunny! Just _look _at him!_" _

The yellow mech sounded choked up as he responded. "I know, Sides. I _know_! ...He looks just like he's about to- to frown and tell us off-!"

Sideswipe began to sniffle. "Oh, Primus. Look at me, crying."

"It's okay, Sides. He's happy now...! Just think, he'll be in some kind of office, surrounded by paperwork, and he'll be smiling as he processes lots of complicated data. See him swivelling on his chair, twirling round and round as mountains of data-pads are piled around him, ordered meticulously-"

Sunny broke off in a sob, and Sides quickly grabbed him in a hug. "He'd want us to remember him that way. We'll work through this for Prowlie. We'll make him proud!"

Suddenly, Ratchet arrived and eyed the situation. He frowned and stepped forwards. "...What are you doing?"

"Prowlie's _gone_, Ratchet!"

Ratchet screwed up his face. "Gone? What do you mean, gone? He's right _there!_"

Red Alert followed him. "Ratchet took the liberty of sedating him."

"What!? He's _on set_! He can't be sedated!"

Ratchet snarled at Sides. "Can. He doesn't have any lines, remember? Besides, if he just had to lie there, and wasn't allowed to do anything but listen to you idiots argue, he'd probably self-terminate."

"Bumblebee!" Sunny appealed. "Come on!"

The director shrugged. "_...best thing 'bout tonight is that we're not fighting-"_

Ratchet sniffed. "Consider it a favour to Prowl, anyway. He's not fritzing, he's not worried, he's doesn't even have to hear you snarl over the top of him. Look. He's not even _frowning_."

They looked at the second in command.

Sunny sighed, and Sides sniffed. "You know what?"

"What, bro?"

"This all goes to show that we need to spend more time with Prowlie."

"Yep. You don't know what you've got till it's gone."

"We can't lose Prowlie."

"No way... hey, if we're with him every moment, we can protect him from random hazards."

"Agreed, brother."

Ratchet scratched his helm. _Oh boy. _How was he going to explain this one to Prowl?

* * *

OOOOH! GCSE RESULTS! They're coming! **TOMORROW**! I'm excited. And apprehensive. xD Aaand annoyed at my school. **_11 till 1_**. That's the teeny weeny time period we have to collect them. What REJECTS.

I'm going to set Megatron on them. He'll deal with them for me.

...One of my fingers just died. It simply doesn't work anymore.

And you lazy SWINES, review! I don't put myself to the trouble of writing these finger-killing chapters so that you beasts can just press the tempting X-thing.

*waves flaccid and amusingly limp finger* See? SEE?!

Hmph. (Sulks quietly)

I just had a plot bunny hurl itself at my face, shrieking that I should do deleted scenes for the movies.

(mind drifts)

OMG, yes. One more thing.

I've had plenty of ideas that I can't fit it into this fic. So, so I'm kind of writing a separate piece to compliment this one. I'm thinking of entitling it: _How To Take Care Of Your Seeker_.

Hm. I _wonder_ what it's about. xD Well, there'll be some dude called Megatron. And a sparkling Starscream. And lots and lots and lots of... fluff and xD moments, I hope.

What do you think? Would you like it up? xD

Speak to me, gang!


	15. Chapter 15

Wow. Fanfiction really didn't like me today. It decided to upload this four times. ^o)

_Four_. Odd site.

I'm doomed, gang. I write this A/N under the suffocating mound of homework that I have to do.

A-levels really are ridiculously hard, if I get _four_ stupidly large pieces on my second day.

Thank you for your reviews! They make me screech with as much joy as when Megsy beat Screamer with his arm, and stroked his chin in ROTF.

Yes, I did actually screech and clap in the cinema. x3

...Hang on. I've just realised something. A few chapters ago, when Megs was trying to resurRECT Screamer, he wafted air towards his wings, right?

Well... it struck me that this is a preposterous idea. Have you seen Megatron's 'hand'? How can you waft air through claws?

No wonder he was so frantic.

Anyway, for anyone interested, _How To Take Care Of Your Seeker_ is officially up. And I'm working on a one-shot.

No, you can't know what it is.

But you can guarantee it'll be as deranged as all of my other fictions. :) That's just how I roll.

I'm trusting you lot to arrange your own safety... um, arrangements. So, AWAY! xD

* * *

Sam blinked and stared. "B-Bumblebee?"

"Caution, Sam." Optimus rested a finger before his chest. "It may not be safe."

"Contrary, Prime," Wheeljack beamed, picking the perpetrator-of-a-device up. "It's all safe."

Jetfire stammered unintelligibly.

Optimus slowly raised himself to his full height. "Safe."

"Ye-"

"_Safe_, Wheeljack."

"Yes-"

"You say it's _safe_."

"It is...?"

Optimus howled suddenly. "LOOK AT _BUMBLEBEE_ AND TELL ME THAT!"

Jetfire jumped and Wheeljack finally wilted.

There was a quiet whimper.

Optimus quickly turned round, and bent down. "It's okay, Bumblebee. We'll have you out of this in no time._ Won't we, _Wheeljack_._"

It wasn't a question. Wheeljack nodded frantically.

"Um, call me a stupid fleshling, but I don't get what's happened?" Sam curiously edged forwards,

"Bumblebee is a sparkling, Sam." Optimus gently presented a finger, which the newly-small Bumblebee grabbed and sucked happily.

"A what?"

"Incredible! Think of the possibi-"

Jetfire thought he should step in, interrupting the _death-to-Wheeljack_ glare from Optimus. "He's- somehow been c-converted into one of our young- although we obviously c-can't say yet if he's got the processor of his normal self, or has been r-reverted back to his actual sparklinghood."

"We'll work on returning Bumblebee back to his normal self, Optimus! Fear not!"

Optimus sighed. "How long do you think it will take?"

"Well, how long is a cable?" Wheeljack radiated _happiness._

"That's _it. _I'm going to find Prowl and make sure he can think up a suitable punishment for- _this._ And all your other explosions."

Amazingly, Prowl suddenly appeared in the doorway. "_Hide me!_"

The second in command hurled himself into the room and dived beneath a table.

"I thought you were s-supposed to be in the medbay, sir."

"I _am_! But I've had enough!" Prowl hissed.

"Prowl, can you think of a rule to hopefully reduce Wheeljack's mishaps?"

"...Negligence in your chosen profession resulting in damage of property or fellows will be punished appropriately according to the chaos incurred."

"Damn, you're good, Prowl."

"Well-"

Arcee stalked into the room. "What the _Pit_ are you _idiots_ doing? Do you _realise_ the noise you're mak-" The femme actually stopped mid-rant, then continued suspiciously. "That looks like Bumblebee. Has he had a sparkling?! Who with!? I'm going to-"

Hot Rod crashed into her back, appearing out of nowhere. "Have you seen Bumblebee? I need to tell him about-"

Arcee stumbled forwards, then hissed and punched him in the area painful to all mech-kind.

Hot Rod staggered slightly, then crumpled neatly to the floor, clutching himself. _//RED ALERT! RATCHET! I'M DOOOOWN!//_

Feet pounded down the corridor. "PRRRROOOOOOOOOOWLLLLIIIIE!"

"He _has_ to be in here-"

Sunny and Sides thrust themselves inside the lab excitedly. "A gathering! Why aren't we invited-?"

"-Have you seen Prowlie?"

"PROWLIEEEE!"

Jetfire winced as Sunny threw data-pads into the air pointlessly.

"I DON'T SEE HIM!"

"THEN COME ON! HE COULD BE DYING ALREADY!"

"I KNOW! I CAN'T _BELIEVE_ WE'VE FAILED HIM LIKE THIS!"

They raced out, leaving a stunned silence.

"...Why the Pit are they shouting?"

Wheeljack listened carefully. "I think you're okay to come out, Pro-"

The black and white visibly restrained himself from jumping at the engineer. "Y-"

"!"

Prowl winced and scuttled under the tables, hoping to escape.

Sunny flung himself back through the door, followed closely by Sides.

"WE KNEW YOU WERE HERE SOMEWHERE!"

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM US, PROWLIE!" The yellow twin flung the door shut, blocking off his exit.

"Back to the medbay!"

Prowl whimpered, considering breaking rule 75b.

They could see it on his face. The way he glanced towards the window helped, too.

"Think about it, Prowlie," Sideswipe said seriously. "What are the chances- even if you _do_ manage to evade us- that you'll survive Ratchet's wrath?"

"We'll never give up on you, Prowlie. Just come out slowly, and we'll try and get back before Ratchet realises you're-"

"WHERE THE **FRAG** IS THAT _NO-GOOD_, **_WORKOHOLIC_**-"

Jetfire winced as the furious bellow thundered towards them.

After that, everything seemed to happen simultaneously.

Prowl- no doubt with some ingenious strategy devised- rolled under another table, and launched himself towards the wall.

Sunny hurled himself over said table at the second, and Sides dived beneath it.

Followed by a calmer Red Alert, Ratchet burst into the room with an incredibly ferocious snarl, knocking into Wheeljack.

Wheeljack squawked, dropping the device, which clattered to the floor.

It bounced ominously- somehow everyone had time to look at it, freezing in position, (wherever they were) before Megatron stormed in, dragging an unhappy Starscream behind him.

"What the Pit is going on here? Autobot HAPPY-TIME? Ah-!" The Decepticon Commander had caught sight of someone of great interest. "BOY!"

He flung himself at Sam, who squeaked. In turn, Optimus threw himself before Sam, colliding painfully with Megatron.

"Starscream! Get him!"

The Seeker growled in annoyance. "No!"

"DO IT," Megatron ordered, rolling around the floor with Optimus. "I'll restrain Prime by heaving around with him like I normally do-"

"I'm not doing it! The human has done nothing to annoy me."

Megatron looked like he was about to explode. Starscream's paint-punishment had clearly worn off, and his second had decided to be defiant at this pivotal moment. "STARSCREAM! YOU DARE YANK MY CHAIN IN THIS MANNER!"

Even Sunny and Sides, who were currently straining to contain Prowl, managed to shoot incredulous looks behind them. Prowl shifted so he could see the argument, optic ridge raised.

The quiet was just _waiting_ to see how Starscream risked responding. Surely he wouldn't dare-

"...I yank no chain."

"That's IT!" Megatron suddenly howled, throwing himself at Starscream. "YOU _WILL_ BE YANKING MINE IN A MINUTE, I TELL YOU, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING-"

Optimus- reacting at the speed of _Blurr_- grabbed his brother, and tackled him into the wall. "RUN!"

Starscream stepped backwards, and accidentally kicked the device, which had, up till now, been sitting quietly, minding its own business.

Innocuous no longer, it whirred, and flashed suddenly.

Wheeljack stood in a happy daydream. "Oh dear."

The technology buzzed, then a light inside ignited and expanded until the whole device was glowing.

"Oh, Primus," Jetfire whispered.

"STARSCREAM! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE, BUT I'M GOING TO BATTER YOU ANYWAAAY!" Megatron raged, hurling himself at the other Decepticon again.

Again, Optimus leapt in the way, smashing into Megatron. "Stop it!"

"Why change the habit of a LIFETIME?"

"Because-"

The device shrieked suddenly and emitted several flashes of light.

Bumblebee blew a raspberry inappropriately. Sam protectively dived in front of his infantile friend. Unluckily, he was still at least three times smaller than the scout, but he spread his arms to cover as much as he could.

This was when it happened.

The device suddenly burst into a blinding display of radiance. It was blinding like the way you feel blinded when you stare into the sun (even though you _know_ you shouldn't) and get those annoying spots floating in your vision for the next ten minutes and no matter how hard you squint, they just _won't_ go away.

Like before, beams shot towards occupants of the room.

Starscream happened to be standing practically on top of the machinery, and was engulfed in light.

That was all they managed to see before the whole room grew too bright to keep optics and/or eyes open.

Eventually, there was silence, and nothing disturbing seemed to be happening.

Optimus slowly opened his optics and uncurled from around Bumblebee and Sam.

The human had clung to Bumblebee's tiny chassis, and was currently twitching.

"Sam...?"

"Oh, God! Optimus!" Sam looked around, with a pained wince. "...Did you throw yourself around to protect me again? Big guy, you know I love you, right? You're just so awesome and clever and big and strong and awesome and fantastic and brightly coloured and-

Optimus waited for the boy to finish.

"-and HUUUUUUGE, but you kind of should stop throwing yourself in danger for me, it's touching, really, honestly, it _is_ but-"

The smallified Bumblebee clicked and poked him.

"OW!" Sam clutched his chest.

Bumblebee's optics widened in shock.

"OW, Bumblebee! No! That hurts!"

Bumblebee's antenna drooped. Optimus gently picked him up, Sam included in the happy bundle. "You cannot do that, Bumblebee. That pained Sam-"

"Because he is puny...! What I would _give_ to squeeze his soft body. The satisfaction it would fill me with-"

Optimus stood, turning, to see Megatron appeared normal. Well, relatively. As far as Megatron could appear normal, anyway.

"I hope you've calmed down, Megatron."

"Why- oho! I forgot! Where is that _useless_ Air Commander of mine?"

Optimus pointed silently.

Megatron whirled round and saw a tiny sparkling. "WHAT KIND OF CONSPIRACY IS THIS? WHERE THE PIT IS STARSCREAM?"

"You're looking at him," Optimus replied, jiggling the yellow mechling he was holding into a more comfortable position. Sam clung on desperately.

"Don't be absurd!" Megatron's arm whistled through the air in exasperation. "Starscream is small, but not _that_ small. You're trying to pull mesh over my optics! You cannot deceive _mmmeeeeeee_! What the frag have you done with him-!"

"I'm serious, Megatron. Look at him."

Megatron growled, and turned to the sparkling before him. There was a pause as he looked over the small mechling. It was true. He was red, blue, and white. He had his wings. He even had an extremely vaguely sarcastic look about him.

Eventually, Megatron looked back at him. "I concede it looks similar, but I don't understand!"

Optimus noted the slight edge of a plea in his words, and tried to reassure him. "This machine obviously can turn us into sparklings. Behold-" He waved his free hand around the room.

Prowl, helm in hands, was being physically assaulted by two small silver and golden sparklings. "They're DEMONS!" he wailed, struggling to get up as he saw them looking over.

A tiny pink femme was sitting on the floor, her scowl bigger than her actual body.

"Hell hath no fury..." Optimus cringed quietly.

There was a sudden wail from behind her, and Hot Rod rolled into view, sobbing loudly.

A sudden crash made them all jump- Wheeljack was flung back (literally) by a table that collided with his mid-section.

"YOU FRAGGING GLITCH! DO YOU REALISE WHAT YOU'VE DONE?! PUT THE SAFETY ON, YOU BUFFOON, BEFORE YOU TURN US ALL INTO SLAG!"

Wheeljack stupidly attempted to protest, between wheezes. "Safety? There is no-"

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT, YOU-"

Ratchet's kind words and hurling of heavy objects inspired Jetfire to pick up the device and do something technological to it.

The fuming medic span around, saw his junior blinking up at him, and became incensed again, hurling something sharp at the engineer. "WHY DON'T YOU EVER LEARN!?"

With a scarily brief exhalation, Ratchet bent down, picked up the quiet sparkling, and scanned him.

An enraged, deafening screech suddenly brought Optimus back to the Starscream situation.

Megatron twitched quietly. "So _that_ is Starscream."

"Lucky you, eh?"

Megatron scowled and ignored him, instead choosing to glare at the small Seeker. "Get your bright aft over here _now_."

The sparkling frowned in confusion, then decided to shriek at him instead.

"Oh, PRIMUS!" Ratchet shouted, threateningly pointing at the Decepticon Commander. "CONTROL your charge before I do something DRASTIC!"

Megatron flinched slightly before wisely choosing to grab Starscream off of the floor and wave him around in the air with an air of boredom.

The Seeker squeaked happily, and stopped screeching.

Jetfire slowly crossed the room, and eyed Arcee warily before extending a hand to her.

She reached back, pressing her tiny palm against his, and giggled.

Jetfire nearly twitched in shock, but managed to control himself. "Come on, then."

Slowly, he picked her up and settled her in his arms. She snuggled into him, purring happily.

"Wow. This is one f-for the records."

"Too right," Ratchet scowled, picking up the wailing Hot Rod. "Wheeljack's most impressive disaster YET."

"I add my complete agreement," Prowl added, wincing.

Sunny had proceeded to climb up him, using his face as handholds, and was currently pulling at his chevron with an annoyed expression.

Sideswipe was jumping incessantly at his doorwings, attempting to bat them and at the same time hold onto the top of them.

It was time to get tough. It was time to use the Tone.

"_Twins_...!"

They both looked at him immediately, freezing in mid-yank and mid-leap.

Of course, you can't freeze in mid-leap- you can try it, if you don't believe me. But it's true.

Sides crashed back to the floor and started crying. Sunny began to bawl almost instantly.

With a sigh, Prowl removed the sparkling from his helm, setting him next to his brother.

Their howls escalated as Prowl stepped away from them.

"Prowl!" Ratchet snarled, arms full of sparklings. "DEAL with them!"

"I can't! I'm not trained for this!"

"There _is_ no training for fatherhood!"

"FATHERHOOD?" Prowl promptly fritzed and crumpled to the floor.

"Primus! INCOMPETENTS!"

Jetfire quickly backed away out of Ratchet's firing line.

"Talk to me, Jetfire. How long do you think it will be before you can rectify this?" Optimus sighed wearily.

"I honestly c-can't say, sir. But it might not be as terrible as you think it is."

"How so?"

Jetfire looked down at a burbling Arcee.

Optimus followed his gaze. "One might almost think she was-"

"_Aragagghhh_!" Sam shrieked as Bumblebee tried to put him in his mouth.

"No, Bumblebee! ...Sam, I would put you down, but then you would be at the debatable mercy of the twins."

"Oh, I'm good, I'm good," Sam hurriedly spoke. "Being chewed is fine by me."

Megatron scowled, holding Starscream by the scruff. "So, now what?"

"Exactly what Ratchet said," Prime sighed. "We're going to have to be fathers for a while."

"Be _joking_, brother."

"Be lucky you're not Prowl."

Megatron glanced at the freshly-crumpled Prowl, who now had two worried sparklings pawing and nudging him. "Point taken."

"Ratchet...! I'll take Hot Rod." Prime stepped forwards.

"Very well."

Ratchet handed over the snivelling orange and yellow sparkling, then looked at Red Alert, who was solemnly watching every move he made. "This lot are incompetent, aren't they, Red? Yes, they are."

The sparkling sucked his cheek in thoughtful agreement.

"I'll check them all over, Prime. Get everyone down to the medbay."

* * *

The medbay seemed very crowded without an adult Red Alert.

Ratchet scurried around preparing and fiddling, but nothing seemed to get done.

He had already checked over Red Alert, who had blinked quietly up at him the whole time.

Everything seemed in order- nothing had changed, except his size. And, of course, his processor age.

Eventually, he went into the waiting area.

"First up-"

Megatron leapt forwards, Starscream swinging from his hand. "THIS."

Optimus winced, but the Seeker giggled.

Ratchet smiled sweetly. "No, I hadn't finished my sentence. First up, Optimus and company."

He disappeared back into a room.

Optimus felt a bit guilty as Megatron twitched, unsubspaced his fusion cannon, and prepared to blow a hole in the wall.

"Megatron! Can't you wait?"

"But-but-" The Decepticon looked about frantically. "What if he's _not right_?"

"It's Starscream. Of course he's not right." Jazz randomly announced.

"And what was _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Well, he hangs out with you- ah, moot point. It isn't like he has much of a choice."

"No one keeps him there!"

"Suuure."

Megatron dumped Starscream on Optimus, and headed towards Jazz. "You. Are. Going. To. SUFFER."

"Can y'catch this piece of awesome?"

"Just watch me, midget. Although it could be tricky. I'm not looking to catch 'awesome'. I'm looking to catch _you_."

Jazz winced, staggering backwards dramatically. "You cut me deep. Deeper than Ironhide's love for cannons. Deeper than Prime's voice when he gets Super-Primely-Angry- may I say, that this is weirdly alluring- I know I'm a mech and all, but _still_. Agree with me, Jet?"

Jetfire stammered wordlessly at him.

Optimus stared at him. "I will have to rectify that. I am not supposed to be being _alluring_ whilst I reprimand you-"

"Y'can reprimand me _all you like_, my liege." Jazz's visor blinked once in a wink.

"Primus, save me."

"Anyway. Deeper than Wheeljack's grave when Ratchet's done with him. _Deeper_, in fact, than Soundwave's tentacles can penetrate-"

Starscream visibly shuddered and started crying.

Optimus panicked. "Megatron! Get your aft back here! I may be heroic, but I cannot look after _three_!"

Megatron was already there, holding the Seeker to his chassis. "It's okay. Forget that he ever said _anything_-"

"Why? All I said was something to do with the penetration ability of Soundwave's tentacles-"

Starscream's wails escalated.

"Oh, Primus. Stop!" Megatron began to look fearful.

Optimus saw the look. "Jazz, seriously, don't go any further-"

"But Soundwave's tentacles would. They would reach so deeply-"

The Seeker blinked. There was a moment of silence.

Then the screams began.

Sam attempted to shield his ears. "Sweet GOD!"

Bumblebee began whimpering, but saw Sam's distress. Wriggling over to him, he covered the human with his own body, curling around him.

Hot Rod blinked unhappily, fidgeted his way over to them, then put his arms around them both.

Megatron cursed. "I TOLD YOU TO STOP!"

Jazz winced. "How was I supposed to know?"

"WHY THE PIT DO YOU THINK HE'S CALLED STARSCREAM?!"

"Well... I did have another reason, actually, but it wasn't t'do with crying sparklings-"

The Decepticon snarled. "Well, I can't think what it would be-!"

"...Really?"

Optimus seemed to pale. "Megatron, you have to stop him. Ratchet will _kill_ us all."

"What the Pit do you want me to _do_?"

"You always managed before!"

"Well, that was _ages_ ago!"

"Isn't _anything_ worth a shot??!"

"That's a possibility. I could just shoot him."

"MEGATRON! HE'S A SPARKLING! WHAT'S YOUR NAME? IRONHIDE?"

Sideswipe burbled from his position on Prowl's chassis.

Jetfire had carried Prowl, his twins _and_ Arcee from the labs to the Med-Bay without complaint.

The shuttle deduced that this argument would go on a little longer, and decided that Ratchet _could_ be abated with an unconscious Prowl and twins.

Arcee clutched onto his shoulder briefly as he lifted the second, then headed into Ratchet's domain.

Megatron sighed, barely audibly through the screaming raucous. "I will quieten him if you tell me what the reason is."

Jazz panicked briefly. "Oh, no, no... bad idea."

"Trust me, I'm more accustomed to this noise than you are. I can stand it for longer." His optics narrowed. "Divulge."

Jazz streaked out of the room.

Megatron snarled and started after him, but Optimus spoke. "Starscream needs to see Ratchet. Killing Jazz can wait."

"_Hip-hop is deeeaaad_," declared a quiet radio, barely audible above Starscream's howling.

Optimus' helm snapped down to look at Bumblebee. "What was that?"

The mechling, half-smothered by Hot Rod, did not reply.

"MEGATRON! CEASE HIS NOISE!"

Megatron rolled his optics, and suddenly burst out with an incredibly complicated series of clicks and whistles.

Starscream sniffled, chin wobbling, but quietened considerably.

Megatron tickled his abdomen. "There's a good little _thing_."

The Seeker wiggled his tiny arms and legs, squeaking happily.

Sam, underneath two layers of sparkling, wow-ed in amazement. "_Wow._"

Megatron, suddenly remembering he was not alone, sighed. "Content?"

Optimus blinked. "That was one of the most incredible feats I've ever seen you accomplish."

"**_Well, it's not like he accomplishes much, is it?"_** Jazz's voice enlightened them all over the loudspeaker.

Megatron's optic twitched, and he unconsciously tightened his grip on Starscream, who squeaked as he was squeezed.

Optimus watched in concern as the sparkling began to wriggle desperately. "Megatron?"

"WHAT?"

"You're squashing Starscream."

"Am not."

"You are!"

"Not!"

"Are _too_!"

"Not!"

"Are!"

"I AM NOTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!" Megatron roared, crushing the sparkling forcefully.

Starscream shrieked, finally attracting his attention.

"ARRHG! I can't even take anything out on you anymore! You're- Primus _forbid_- even MORE USELESS!" Megatron dropped him callously and turned away.

Arms full of sparklings, Optimus watched in horror as Starscream slammed into the floor. Amazingly, he didn't screech.

Megatron snarled menacingly. "Where would that happy-go-lucky _fiend_ you call your top _intelligence_ officer be hiding?"

Optimus twitched heroically in response. "You know that I cannot reveal his location."

"That is not what I want from you, Optimus."

"Then, brother, what is it you desire?"

"His _life_." Megatron was about to unleash into the silence his most ferocious snarl- then felt something touch his foot. The snarl rippled out viciously- one of his most Evil yet- as he looked down to see Starscream attempting to cuddle it. His arms could not reach the whole way round, but to make up for this, he was nuzzling it too.

_Nuzzling._

Optimus tried to not to smirk as Megatron's Evil snarl trailed off into a higher pitched warble.

Megatron eventually spoke. He looked like he was trying his hardest not to _grab_ and _fling_. "...Starscream."

The sparkling stopped his snuggling and looked up.

Large red optics were set into the Look of Ultimately Adorable Cuteness, the one that only Adorably Cute beings can even try to attempt.

Megatron nearly recoiled at the strength of it, then remembered that-

"I am _MEGATRON_!"

-and could not, therefore, be overwhelmed by 'Cuteness'.

Firmly fixing a scowl into place, Megatron glared back. "Off."

Starscream looked back unwaveringly.

Megatron snarled. "Away!"

Starscream blinked and continued.

Megatron stamped the foot.

Starscream clung on, never even shifting his gaze.

"Oh, in the name of- what do you _want_?" Megatron lifted his foot, and sighed in relief as Starscream let go, tumbling the short distance to the floor. He turned back to Optimus. "Now. If-"

Exhaling, he looked down to see that yes, Starscream had commandeered his appendage. Again.

**"!"**

* * *

The bellow rumbled through the entire base, startling Lennox, who had just- _just_- finished the delicate operation of building a house of cards. His hand twitched upon being hit by the sound, and the cards slowly crumpled before him, in a mocking and condescending manner. Clenching his teeth, he decided to start again. It wasn't that hard, surely...?

Ironhide inspected the fallen cards. "What exactly _was_ the point of this?"

Epps snorted. "You're doomed."

* * *

Optimus faintly heard another howl float back to them.

_"YOU SHOULD HAVE HEARD THEM **YESTERDAY**! GOING AT IT LIKE-"_

"What is it with this place and howls and bellowing echoing everywhere?"

"**_It's the acoustics, my lord,_**" Jazz offered from his safe location.

"Will you cease calling me-"

Starscream giggled happily, interrupting him.

Megatron groaned, wiped his hand across his face-

"PRIMUS! I just _CLAWED_ myself! WHAT'S THE POINT OF HAVING CLAWS FOR FINGERS-!"

-and sat down against the wall beside Optimus' seat with an almighty sigh.

Starscream blinked, then scurried along his leg. After biting his own wrist, the Seeker turned around several times, then settled on Megatron's interfacing panel with a tiny purr.

There was a moment of blissful quiet, only to be broken by the usual suspect.

"...**_There are many things I could say right no-_**"

"Jazz! Enough!"

A sulky silence indicated Jazz's understanding.

Prowl stumbled out into the waiting room, the door closing behind him, then collapsed, sliding down another wall.

"Prowl? Are you okay?"

"...I'm doomed. Doomed. _DOOOMED_. Death, destruction. Despair, decimation, deterioration. Damnation. Why do all these things begin with D? Because so do _they_."

"Sunny and Sides? They begin with s-"

"Devils. Demons. Demon-one, Demon-two."

Megatron seemed slightly upset. "You didn't mention Decepticon."

Optimus was more worried about Prowl's sudden decline into dementia. "...Primus! They _do_ all commence with D!"

There was a sudden frantic squeaking, and the door opened again.

Two small streaks zoomed towards them all, then paused, skidding some distance as they noticed Prowl.

Sunny bounded towards him and ascended to the great height of Prowl's shoulder by flinging himself at a doorwing and hauling himself up.

Sideswipe had a slightly calmer approach; instead climbing onto Prowl's lap and nestling into his arm.

Optimus could just _hear_ Jazz melting. "...So, what did Ratchet say?"

Prowl didn't reply himself, but played an audio file. "-_ if someone else doesn't get in here right now, I'll go on strike, and-"_

"It gets worse thereon in...? Okay. I'm going." Optimus stood, sparklings attached. "Sam, you're coming with me. I'm not leaving you with Megatron."

An indignant Megatron spread his hands innocently.

Optimus neared the door, but then the Decepticon frantically spoke.

"...Wait! You can't leave me with _Jazz_!"

"I'm leaving you with Prowl."

"Please! You can't do this to me!"

"He's not dangerous."

"He's _deranged_, is what he is."

"Five minutes. I'm sure you can cope."

"Don't leaaaaaave meeeeee!"

"Well, now you shall know what it feels like to be _left_." Optimus narrowed his optics meaningfully before entering Ratchet's domain.

The medic himself was addressing Red Alert, who was listening to his every word. "I'll leave you all and visit another country."

_//Oh, you wouldn't, Ratch. Y'love us too much.//_

"JAZZ! Stop eavesdropping! Go and do something else!"

There was a quiet chuckle. //_Kukukuuuu...as you command, my liege._//

Ratchet pouted. "I would too."

"But then who would you hurl heavy objects at?"

"So, there are flaws, but I'll work them out, Prime. Don't you worry. Jetfire; I've told Jazz to notify Ironhide who _should _be on his way here. In the meantime, she's healthy." The CMO plonked Arcee back into Jetfire's arms.

Hot Rod gurgled, and stared at her.

Optimus quickly handed him to Ratchet, then placed Bumblebee on the table. "No, Hot Rod. No ogling. Arcee really wouldn't appreciate that- wait! Where's Sam?"

Jetfire peered at Bumblebee. "There-?"

"...Bumblebee! Put Sam _down_."

The yellow sparkling frowned, and squeezed Sam to him.

Sam made a horrible choking sound.

"Oh, PRIMUS!" Optimus flopped around aimlessly before crashing to the ground.

Jetfire twitched in horror. "What's going on!?"

Ratchet calmly held out a hand to Bumblebee, and clicked commandingly at him.

Bumblebee squeaked in upset, but handed Sam over.

"Clever Bumblebee." Ratchet praised. "_Clever."_

_"_S-sir? What about Prime?_"_

"Hm? It's nothing I can fix. He fritzed because he couldn't hurl himself into danger to protect Sam. I call it his idiotic, heroic-self-sacrificing complex."

"...Ohhh."

Jetfire left Optimus to Ratchet's attentions, and went to sit in the waiting room with Arcee.

Megatron was holding his face (carefully) in both hands, shaking discreetly.

Prowl was staring blankly at the opposite wall.

Starscream and Sideswipe were happily snuggled into their respective mechs.

Sunny was trying to attract Prowl's attention. Whatever it took.

At that particular moment, he had launched himself onto Prowl's helm, and was dangling upside down in his face by means of chevron.

Jetfire glanced at Arcee, who was screwing up her face. "If you desire my attention, just squeak at me, or some variation of this."

Arcee's optics twitched as she looked back up at him.

"Did I baffle you? I apologise." Jetfire sighed, and sat down.

Ironhide suddenly burst into the quiet room, cannons spinning angrily.

"...JETFIRE! YOU'RE OKAY!"

The scientist quivered nervously. "I a-am...?"

"Jazz said that my team had been-" Ironhide's optics narrowed dangerously, and he snorted. "**Jazz**."

"I'm f-fine. It's A-Arcee." Jetfire nodded at the pink sparkling.

Ironhide took one look.

Then laughed.

Even his cannons seemed to splutter in amusement.

Megatron scowled. "Do you mind? _Some_ of us are trying to recharge. Although not I, for I am _Megatron_. I need no recharge, for I am-"

"_So_ sorr-" Ironhide gawped. "Is that STARSCREAM?"

"Yes..."

"What the PIT have you put him on your _interfacing panel_ for?! What are you hoping he'll _do_-! You _SICK_-"

Jetfire quickly intervened. "S-Starscream went there himself-"

"YOU'VE TRAINED HIM?! AT _THAT_ AGE?!!?"

Megatron's helm thudded backwards into the wall, and he did not reply.

"**_Guilty silence._**"

"I have business with _you_, Jazz," Ironhide snarled threateningly.

Luckily, Optimus returned at that moment. "Ah, Ironhide. That means we are all present."

"I wouldn't call us all _present_," Ratchet scowled from behind him. "Does Prowl look _present_ to you?"

"...I am very present," Prowl said faintly, as Sunny poked his optic.

"Right. Well, obviously there's been a development. ...So, endeavour to think of it positively. You can use this opportunity to look after your teammates, and learn about them."

Bumblebee shrieked suddenly as Sam shuffled away down Optimus' arm.

"...I will take responsibility of Bumblebee and Hot Rod. Mudflap and Skids will be sent on a _highly_-important mission until this crisis is over."

There was a collective sigh of relief.

"I would think that we all concur that Mudflap and Skids sparklings are _not_ desirable."

There was a collective shudder.

"Wheeljack- when he regains consciousness- will work on the machine that did this. Jetfire, you will assist him if he requires it."

The shuttle suddenly spoke. "I wonder if they'll be able to recollect any of this. If they do, the experiences may influence their future selves."

"What?"

"...I mean... when they turn back into their adult s-selves, if they'll remember being a sparkling again. And if they do, w-whatever we do with them could even go so far as to slightly ch-change their personalities."

"...You know, sometimes **_I _**wonder if I'm just stupid, if everyone else speaks in technical terms or is just _really_ posh." Ironhide glared at the culprits.

Jetfire smiled timidly. Prowl actually blinked back at him. Ratchet huffed, choosing to glare at a wide-opticed Red Alert. Optimus winced, and Megatron scowled.

"Oh, come on. We were _sparked_ that way."

"We were not sparked to speak _poshly_, Megatron."

"Clearly not! That was a ridiculous suggestion, Optimus. We were _tutored_ that way."

"We were sparked for grander things. Did you know that we were sparked nobly?"

"What is this revelation, brother?"

"Well, I just looked up 'posh' on the internet. Synonyms include upper-class, aristocratic-"

Megatron nodded knowledgeably. "This is no secret. We know of our heritage."

"-superior, high-class, dignified, righteous, high-born, genteel, well-to-do, _noble, _classy, refined, courteous, proper_-_"

"**_Snobbish_**_._"

Optimus continued. "-so, Ironhide, I regretfully inform you it is because we are of _noble_ blood, as our humans friends might say."

"Well, that accounts for we two. Not so for your accomplices."

Jetfire shuffled. Ratchet scowled. Prowl drooped miserably as Sunny loomed closer to lick his optic.

"So, to summarise." Optimus clapped excitedly, nearly dropping his bundles of joy in the process. "You are now all official guardians of your charges."

"Official? Says who?" Ratchet questioned this.

"Says _me_. And **_I_** am _Prime_, so _nehh_."

There was silence as everyone wondered what _nehh_ could possibly signify.

Optimus valiantly strode past them, helm held high as he nearly tripped over Ratchet's neatly outstretched foot. He sniffed, and departed with Hot Rod, Sam, and Bumblebee bouncing in his arms.

* * *

**_Later on_****... :D**

Ratchet was making his way to the Rec-Room to join everyone when he heard Optimus giving a Dramatic Reveal.

"If you look up _Optimus_ in a dictionary, it defines me as the better, or best. Prime can be found under Primus, which translates into _the first_. So, I'm the first and the best. What have _you_?"

"...Well, my name just sounds _evil_. Apparently, too _evil_. I was almost not called Megatron because of its _evil_ness."

Ratchet rolled his optics at Red Alert, and entered in time to hear Optimus comment thoughtfully.

"Wow, Megs. You really weren't given much of a chance by our parents, were you?"

Megatron sighed. "Tell me about it- no, Starscream! Do. Not. _Bite_. The. Furniture!"

Ratchet raised one optic ridge, and watched as Megatron grabbed the sparkling around his red middle. "Drop it!"

Starscream, dangling onto the seat by teeth alone, narrowed one optic at him.

"You MOCK me-!" Megatron tried to pull him off of the sofa, but failed miserably, and decided to try and unhook the sharp fangs from the seat. "...These _claws_ are USELESS! I can't even grab TEETH!"

Ratchet plonked himself into a seat nearby."...It's lucky that you don't make a habit of grabbing teeth, then."

"Pah. If I twist that statement around, I can blame this on Starscream's _uselessness_. It's HIS fault I don't have much practice at this."

Ratchet frowned as Red Alert sucked on a bottle of energon happily. "Here-"

He threw some bottles at each mech.

Optimus caught one in his mouth, and the other he managed to balance between his antennae, whereas Megatron's hit his forehelm, then somehow glanced off into his optic. "HOLY-"

Jetfire fumbled to catch his, and dropped it several times before finally getting a hold on it and thrusting it towards Ironhide. "Um-"

"Don't look at me." Ironhide passed it back.

Jetfire batted it towards the other mech. "Why?"

"I'm not feeding her." He threw it at Jetfire.

"I don't know how!"_ Flung._

_Hurled. _"It's not that hard. Learn!"

Arcee's large optics watched each and every movement. Finally, she could take it no longer, and squealed loudly.

Jetfire cringed, and shoved the bottle towards her.

With a tiny snort, she reached for it and stuffed it into her own mouth.

"...Did you just get OWNED by a baby?" Sam wrinkled his face up from a safe position on Optimus. Away from Megatron, out of reach of Bumblebee.

Ironhide's dignified silence confirmed it.

"...Technically, she's a sparkling. Not a baby," Jetfire muttered quietly.

Prowl's bottles had whizzed towards him and taken out both of his optics one astro-second after the other, to a slight whimper.

Sunny and Sides, depressed at their guardians unresponsiveness, had snuggled up around each other on his lap.

Optimus quickly used both hands to stuff the bottles simultaneously inside his sparklings' mouths. "Haha-! I knew that dual sword training would come in handy sometime."

Ironhide was puzzled. "Doesn't it come in handy to massacre your opponents?"

Megatron laughed as he waved the bottle in front of Starscream's watchful optics. "As if. His dual-wielding was pathetic."

"You have no room to talk-" Optimus pulled the bottle out of Bumblebee's mouth to point accusingly at his brother. Bumblebee pouted, mouth reaching for the food. "-you actually ganged up on me, three-to-one. Cowardly glitch. No wonder you found it easy to conquer me."

"**_Ah, no, Prime. You're like, the Big Bad Boss Level. In no way are you easy._**"

"You DARE call me cowardly?!"

"Well, you were! You hid behind your subordinates! Starscream, that random Blackout- was it even Blackout? Grindor? Seriously! Do _you _even know? AND you sneaked up behind me. _Sneaked._"

"What, did you want me to sneak up and say '_boo_'?"

"Not the point, and you know it!"

"You didn't _need_ to fight! I gave you multiple opportunities to surrender or to just hand over the boy!"

"You gave me about _one_. Anyway, that shall never happen." Optimus stood dramatically, hands on hips.

Hot Rod and Bumblebee screeched as their bottles were ripped away from them, so he hurriedly sat down.

Sam threw a hand out in pent-up exasperation. "Optimus, I _still_ don't understand why you throw yourself in danger all the time."

"...I'll try to explain. Think of a word you might use to describe me."

Sam thought carefully. "_Noble_."

"Well, if you look up noble, it includes words such as dignified, gracious, decent, righteous, good, splendid, gallant, polite, and _self-sacrificing_. So, I guess it just comes with the whole heroic concept."

"...Right. But you're, you know, the figurehead for the Autobots, yeah? So you really shouldn't be hurling your life around willy-nilly-"

Ratchet huffed. "Don't try to understand, Sam."

"He doesn't listen to _any_ of us about it," Ironhide agreed, shooting a dirty look at Prime.

_"Willy-nilly?" _Megatron shook his helm as he wiggled the bottle closer to Starscream. "What a _pathetic _term."

The mini-Air Commander tried to open his mouth, but couldn't unhinge himself from the seat. With a growl, he scrunched up his legs and arms, and pushed in the other direction, which also didn't help. Flapping his tiny wings irritably, he looked up at Megatron, who sighed.

"This is what _happens_ when you bite furniture." Relenting, the large mech plucked him into the air and dropped him onto the floor.

There was a moment's pause before optics peeked over the edge of the sofa and Starscream pulled himself up, chirping relentlessly.

"Oh, Primus- just have it." Megatron pushed the bottle towards him.

Starscream looked at it in confusion, tilting his helm, before clawing the mech's leg softly.

"You fool! In your mouth, like _so!_" Megatron rammed the bottle into his mouth, to a surprised squeak before Starscream climbed onto him and began to suck contentedly with soft cheeping sounds.

"Damn you, Megatron. He's not cuter than mine," Optimus scowled.

"No. Cute is for loser- of course he shall be cuter! He is my second in command, and therefore superior!"

Ratchet quietly sighed. At least Red Alert wasn't the cause of arguments. Nor, in fact, was he squashing humans. Nor did he have guardians who were less clued up than he was. Overall, he was clearly the best of the lot.

**Deleted Scenes: xD**

Megatron looked like he was about to explode. Starscream's paint-punishment had clearly worn off, and his second had decided to be defiant at this pivotal moment. "STARSCREAM! YOU DARE YANK MY CHAIN IN THIS MANNER!"

Even Sunny and Sides, who were currently straining to contain Prowl, managed to shoot incredulous looks behind them. Prowl shifted so he could see the argument, optic ridge raised.

The quiet was just _waiting_ to see how Starscream risked responding. Surely he wouldn't dare-

"...I yank no chain."

"That's IT!" Megatron suddenly howled, throwing himself at Starscream. "YOU _WILL_ BE YANKING MINE IN A MINUTE, I TELL YOU, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING-"

Starscream squawked in surprise as Megatron collided with- and proceeded to beat the living slag out of- him. "OPTIIIMUUUUS!"

Said mech glanced up. "That sounds familiar."

"It's your name, you..." Ratchet trailed off, shaking his helm.

Ironhide, the only mech/femme not on-screen, sighed as he paused filming. "Now I know how Prowl feels when I muck up a take. Sorry, Prowl."

"Apology accepted," groaned the second, still directing whilst on-screen. "Run it back to the part when Megatron originally shouts about the yanking. Optimus, what went wrong?"

"Hm? I was just thinking."

"Thinking-"

"You can think _whenever_."

"Your heart needs to _be_ in this. To _be_."

"Thank you, twins. Oh, great- we need to take a break: Starscream's out for a while. Megatron! You weren't supposed to actually attack him!"

Megatron rolled his optics. "Call it instinct or built in behaviour. I need to believe this is real. If I'm not _believing _that I'm going to launch myself and assault Starscream, it won't work for me."

Hot Rod nodded. "He has a point. Got to follow through."

"That's enough following through, thank you. We'll do a scene that Starscream isn't in."

"Like _what_?"

Prowl paused. "We'll just carry on. Ratchet! I want Starscream looking UNTOUCHED! Get lights on him! Bright, shiny lights!"

Megatron sniggered. "That's what they _all_ said after I finished him the _first_ time."

"What-? Leave it. We continue!"

...

The device suddenly burst into a blinding display of radiance. It was blinding like the way you feel blinded when you stare into the sun (even though you _know_ you shouldn't) and get those annoying spots floating in your vision for the next ten minutes and no matter how hard you squint, they just _won't_ go away.

Like before, beams shot towards occupants of the room.

Starscream happened to be standing practically on top of the machinery, and was engulfed in light.

That was all they managed to see before the whole room grew too bright to keep optics and/or eyes open.

Eventually, there was silence, and nothing disturbing seemed to be happening.

Optimus slowly opened his optics, and uncurled from around Bumblebee and Sam.

The human had clung to Bumblebee's tiny chassis, and was currently twitching.

"Sam...?"

"Oh, God! Optimus!" Sam looked around, with a pained wince. "...Did you throw yourself around to protect me again? Big guy, you know I love you, right? You're just so awesome and clever and big and strong and awesome and fantastic and brightly coloured and-

Optimus sighed happily, and gestured for him to proceed. "Do continue. Don't stop."

Sam's cheek twitched. "Sorry? This is just about the part where I finish..."

"Well, I think you should continue. I was enjoying your description, although I do believe you missed certain keywords. May I assist y-"

"NO, OPTIMUS!" Ironhide yelled. "NO! FROM THE TOP! NO DIVERSIONS!"

Optimus huffed, but covered Sam up, ready to begin again.

...

Ratchet frowned as Red Alert sucked on a bottle of energon happily. "Here-"

He threw some bottles at each mech.

One smashed into Optimus' antennae, and the other he nearly swallowed- he would have howled in pain if he had not been busy choking.

Megatron's slammed straight into his optic. "FRAG-!"

Jetfire's bottle zoomed far over his helm, and he reached up to grab it but collided with Ironhide, who had had the same idea. They smashed into each other, missed the bottle completely- which sailed joyously out of the window- and crashed back onto their seat, nearly crushing Arcee.

Prowl's bottles had whizzed towards him, but dropped slightly mid-flight, and whacked painfully into the recharging Sunny and Sides, who awoke with shrieks.

Ratchet shrugged nonchalantly at their assorted displeasures. "I'm sorry if my aim was off. Have you tried throwing six bottles at once- _accurately_- in different directions?"

The responses he received were, to say the least, varied.

* * *

As for Megatron's randomly (sort of) highly pitched warbling noise at Starscream, I meant the _Megatron_ version of a high-pitched noise.

Probably sounds like someone _normal_ talking. I don't think Megsy is capable of a high pitched sound. I mean, LOOK at him. And listen, too. He's so deep and rumbly and snarly and GLOMPFUL.

I've just had a wonderful idea...! xD

I KNOW you'll leave one, so, in your review, include an unusual or rare word. I've learnt two new words since this fanfic began.

I'd like to see MORE. MORE!! Work that vocabulary!

This, wonderful gang, is your chance to make me suffer. I'm sure just about everyone in this fic has been abused, so do it in the name of your favourite character in this story.

Show them some LOVE. Tell me who they are, and give me a word- either an unusual one, or, your favourite word _ever_. It doesn't matter how random the word is, but I promise I'll even try to fit it into the next chapter.

No matter how bizarre.


	16. Chapter 16

Sorry for sort of falling off of the radar! My internet completely and utterly karked it, (:D) leaving me with about five minutes of internet a day.

Anyway, I was originally intending this to be a single chapter, but I'm having too much fun.

So, I've split it into two parts, meaning there will be sparklings for another chapter. Sorry. :D

This also means that some of those truly incredible words that I asked for last chapter will turn up there too.

So if you don't see your word here, it's in next chapter, I promise! xD

On that note, my heart goes out to you reviewers.

This chapter, that would be **9aza**,** Captain Arianna Trouble**,** ShadowedBlossom**,** Clumsy Peg**,** Victoria-BlackHeart**,** JuJill**,** Kittisbat**,** Splatter Fall**,** Heir to the World**,** RzSpeeder**,and **Grumpy Old Diamond.**

_**I love you all. Unconditionally**_. Thank you so much for your words and your time!

Anytime you want, make a suggestion, even if I haven't prompted for one. I shall prompt soon, actually, but that's not right now. :D

Note:

When you see writing like **_this_, **you'll _instantly_ remember that this is someone utilising a loudspeaker, won't you? Thought so.

And, I don't own the name _Wacky Warehouse_. I stole it from this amazing place my friends and I frequented in youth. Then I got too old to go there.

I would have looked odd, crawling around with seven year olds. ;D

If anyone out there needs an idea for a business, I have one. A Kid's World for teenagers/adults.

You know... ball pits, tunnels, swingy ropes and slides.

Right now, you're probably a little bit O_o, because you have no clue what I'm talking about. Well, read on, and you will.

* * *

"**..._Soooooooooooo_...**"

Wheeljack looked up from his work. "Jazz-!"

"**_Assuming you mean that incredibly smooth, immensely talented and unbelievably clever mech you're deeply missing, that would be me_**_._"

"I haven't seen you in a while! Where've you been?" Wheeljack inspected a sheet of metal thoughtfully.

"**_I'm... on leave_**_._"

"What leave?"

"**_What do you think?_**"

"...Paternity?" Wheeljack, beaming, clasped his hands together, a faraway look on his faceplates. "You're a father! Congratulations...! Who is the lucky femme? Incredible; I can't believe I never knew!"

There was a silence_. _"**_That's because I never was_**_._"

"But-" Wheeljack drooped sadly. "Oh."

There was a sigh. "**..._Of course I am, 'jack_**_._"

The engineer brightened. "Can I-"

"**_No. Under no circumstance would I let you near my imaginary sparklings...anyway. Aren't you s'posed to be fixing that technological gizmo-thing?_**"

Wheeljack blinked once, then remembered. "Ah! Well, yes, I am, but I had an idea, and..."

".**.._You built that_**."

"Brill, eh?"

"**..._One word for it. Oh, Primus- you're doomed! Live your life in the brief moments you have left-! Incoming!_**_"_

"Hmmm...?" Wheeljack turned around and heard a thud upon the closed door.

A slightly muffled voice followed the sound through the doorway. "Damn."

There was another thud.

"...How many times are you going to bum the door?"

"I am not '_bumming the door'_, Sam."

"So, what are you doing?"

"...In order to continue our stroll, I am in the process of endeavouring to open the entrance... with my aft."

There was a pause. "However eloquently you put it, you're _still_ bumming a door."

"You should try opening a door when your arms are fully occupied."

"Shouldn't you guys- you're all super-advanced and all, yeah?"

"...Yes."

"So, don't you have some automatic door? Or something?"

"An abuse of power. I was brought up not to abuse power, hence, not to abuse doors. If you can do something yourself, you shouldn't expect others to do it for you."

"Well, you blatantly _can't _do it yourself. And, I do call bumming a form of abuse."

"Your argument is sound, boy." There was a harsh sound that sounded oddly like a kick.

Wheeljack watched as the door wooshed open to reveal Optimus. Hot Rod clung tightly onto his armour as the door moved, and Bumblebee squeaked, wide-opticed.

"Morning, Prime! ...And morning to Prime's temporarily adopted sparklings and weakness, too! You're all up early!"

Sam frowned, glancing over his companions. "What's... what did you just say?"

Wheeljack blinked. "Morning, Prime?"

"Nonono, after."

"...Up early?"

Sam threw his hands into the air, nearly unbalancing himself as he did. Bumblebee burbled and grabbed him, squeezing him to his tiny chassis. Sam started wheezing. "What is it with when you ask that question, and it's _always_ the third time lucky? It's always the part in the middle that's wanted- I don't give a damn about the _beginning-_" Mid-wheeze, he thrust his hands to one side- "Nor, in fact, do I care about the _end-_" His arms were flung in the opposite direction. "All I want is the part in the _miiiiddddlllle_! Is it too much to ask? Am I pushing it, here? Why don't I go and throw myself in-"

"Prime's adoptive sparklings and weakness?" Seeing the human become more and more agitated, Wheeljack tried said '_miiiiddddlllle'_, knowing that Ratchet would not be happy about Sam stressing. And an unhappy Ratchet spread his seeds of joy.

Sam twitched. "...And _weakness_?"

"I was greeting you," Wheeljack bit his lip.

The human did not seem pleased, and was turning a surely unhealthy shade of puce.

Wheeljack hurried to rectify his obvious mistake. "Well, he's always fighting to the death because of you, or fighting over the top of you-"

_"**Only died once**_," Jazz reminded.

"I DIDN'T DIE!" Optimus howled, helm snapping up to the ceiling, trying to glare at the saboteur (then realised that this was impossible), and settled for hysterical jerking movements of said helm as he tried to pinpoint the epicentre of Jazz's voice.

Sam had given up trying to break Bumblebee's grip. "You know how unfair that is? I know I'm useless and all, but you don't have to rub it in so cruelly-"

Wheeljack frowned. "You remind me of someone."

Jazz groaned. "**_No, don't._**_"_

"No, I'll remember." He snapped his fingers. "Ah! Got it. Wheezy, rasping and whispery voice, combined with pleading involving being useless-"

_"**You just have no idea of when to stop**._"

"Starscream, of course! It's obvious!" Wheeljack laughed loudly, throwing his hands into the air in delight.

"Starscream? Have I met him?" Sam was confused, unsure whether he should take further offence.

Optimus left off his Jazz-spotting, worried. "Um, no."

"_But he's a great guy, definitely. It's a great thing to be like him. Let's move on-_" Jazz was quick to back Optimus up.

"Not really. I wouldn't want to be like him," Wheeljack smiled obliviously. "Being a high-ranking Decepticon, not to mention... well, I don't suppose _I'd_ be completely sane if my Commander start-"

"Finish that sentence and I shall give Ratchet utter freedom to do to you what he will."

The threat was a desperate one, and the nature of it made Wheeljack's voice trail away.

"**_You call yourself sane now, 'jack?_**"

Unfortunately, Sam was intrigued. "What? Started what?"

Wheeljack stuttered.

"Jazz?" The teenager persisted.

"**_...He likes to play Twister_**_,_" Jazz said quickly.

"Twister? He randomly started playing _Twister_?" Sam looked at Optimus incredulously.

"This is true."

//_Good thing people believe everything you say, Prime._//

//_How do you know I wasn't telling the truth?_//

//_Please tell me that you're joking? ...Prime? PRIME?!_//

"I didn't know you guys played Twister. Is this back on Cybertron, or what?"

Wheeljack frowned. "We don't-"

Optimus interrupted very loudly. "I think I may be in pain. I might get _Ratchet_ up here."

Jazz tried to save the situation again. "**_It's our form of Twister, Sam. Not quite the same._**"

"Oh, cool! ...Well, maybe you should play our version. It would be _so_ fun! I think you'd be a natural, Ja-"

"Jazz's limbs would be too short," Wheeljack noted.

There was a burst of static.

Optimus stared at the engineer. "Maybe Ratchet's already here. Since when have you started insulting us all?"

"Insulting?" Wheeljack covered his mouth in horror. "I'm being insulting? Oh, Primus! I'm so sorry!"

"...And," Prime added, glancing behind him at a monolith structure (taking up most of the room and no doubt extending elsewhere), "...what do you call _that_?"

Wheeljack, recovering, span round, arms spread widely in great Inventing Joy. "I call it... the _Adventure Playground_."

This was grandly pronounced with the pride that comes with afore-mentioned Inventing Joy.

Sam groaned. "Oh, no. Don't be serious. "

Optimus glanced at him.

"Um, children play on them. And generally hurt themselves and need plasters."

"...So, Wheeljack. Let me make sure I have not misunderstood. Instead of working on turning our sparklings _back_, you have constructed some kind of..."

"**_Wacky Warehouse_?**"

"Thank you, Jazz. A Wacky Warehouse."

Wheeljack smiled proudly. "I have indeed. There's even a _ball-pit_."

Sam gasped. "A ball-pit? The best part!"

"I did my research well, I think. You like?"

"It has some kind of crazy appeal, yes. Hey, back to the point- this, um, guy I'm like. Are you sure I haven't met him? He does sound familiar-"

"N-no," Wheeljack stuttered at a glare from Optimus. "I don't know who you're talking about-"

"_-!_"

The bellow smashed through the base.

"Jazz, talk to me."

They could hear a quiet swivelling sound, and a tapping. "**..._That would be Megatron_**_._"

"That much I gathered."

"_..**.Well, you'll gather more if you look outside.**_"

"...Drat, I can't. Wheeljack's wondrous waste is in the way."

"**_So, what would Ironhide tell you?_**"

"Go through."

"**_Damn, Oppy, you were a fine pupil. I ever tell y'that_**_?_"

Optimus strode to the massive construction in his way, eyeing it carefully before placing the sparklings and Sam on the floor. "Thank you, Jazz. I _could_ order you to tell me it frequently. But returning to the situation at hand, I do not wish to completely annul Wheeljack's misguided efforts."

"**_That's my Special Operations student_**," Jazz cackled.

With a sigh, Optimus dived into a tunnel.

Bumblebee clicked and scaled a beam speedily after him. Sam barely had time to twitch before he found himself being carried into the tunnel.

Hot Rod attempted to follow- _attempted_ being the key word. He threw himself at the structure, then squeaked in surprise as he slammed into, and slowly slid down it. With a shake of the helm, he was up again, attempting to climb it. But he couldn't get a grip and kept slipping, eventually crashing into the floor on his aft.

His brow wrinkled, and his lips pursed, chin wobbling slightly.

There was a chirp from up above, and he looked up to see a familiar yellow face.

Bumblebee's aft suddenly appeared, and he lowered himself out backwards, using one hand to brace himself against the wall, slowing his descent from the tunnel entrance.

The other clutched Sam, who was protesting. "I can _walk_ by myself, thank you, 'bee. Put me _down_." He pointed the best he could at the floor, which they had just reached.

Bumblebee clicked again, and placed him gently on the floor.

"Thank you!" Sam picked himself up, and smoothed his hair for no particular reason.

The tiny scout warbled at Hot Rod, who crawled his way over to a different area, and looked over expectantly.

Bumblebee followed, and squeaked at him. The other sparkling earnestly jumped onto his back- to a slight stagger from the smaller bot- and flung himself at the construction, upon which he splatted, and screeched his way down.

The yellow mech sighed. In the middle of a flurry of beeps, and after a lot of dramatic wall-climbing examples from the scout- by this point, Sam felt even _he _could have made a good attempt at the vertical challenge- Hot Rod seemed to get something, and climbed onto his teammate again.

Seeing the small Cybertronian hurl himself at the wall with no less enthusiasm, Sam winced, but Hot Rod was actually clinging to it this time.

Bumblebee climbed up after him, clicking and whistling, at one point even suffering Hot Rod's aft slipping into his face. Like a true Autobot, he braved the moment and struggled on.

When they finally reached the scary height of the tunnel entrance, Hot Rod gasped, and flung himself onto his back.

Bumblebee whirred at him, then looked expectantly down at Sam.

"...Bumblebeeeee-! I can't get up _there_."

The scout blinked.

"I'm honoured that you think I can, but I really can't. I'll stay here; I'll be fine with Wheeljack. Go and romp around, or something."

Bumblebee frowned, then crawled to the very edge.

"No, Bumblebee! Don't do it! Stay there- don't jump! DON'T DO IT! Wheeljack, _do_ something-!"

Wheeljack was gazing into space with an absent smile.

Sam shrieked as his Autobot clicked at him. "BUUMBLEBEEEE! My life is meaningless without you! Don't let it end like this! I LOVE YOUUUU!"

Bumblebee's antennae folded back. He jumped to the floor (rolling on impact- _where exactly did he pick that up as a sparkling?_), collected a slightly amazed Sam in his mouth, and ascended back to the entrance in an incredibly short span.

* * *

Optimus contemplated the sight before him.

He had seen many unusual things in his life. He had seen many puzzling things in his life.

The name 'Optimus Prime' was synonymous with wisdom, but no amount of wisdom could help him now.

How _was_ one supposed to navigate such a maze? Or- for that matter- cross this room?

He could call on Prowl for a strategy- no. He had his hands full.

So, what would Prowl do?

Optimus surveyed his surroundings. To his left, a winding tunnel. To his right, a narrower winding tunnel. Behind him, a winding tunnel. Being sick of winding tunnels, forwards was the only way to go- over what looked suspiciously like a mine-field, complete with shrapnel and a limb here or there.

Optimus sucked his cheek thoughtfully. Well... wait-! Some loud being was approaching from behind.

Upon checking, his sensors told him that there, in fact, not one, but _three_. Prime made a mental note that Bumblebee was _too_ sneaky.

"Onwards, 'bee!" Sam cheered from his seat.

"Sam? I left y- ...why are you astride Bumblebee?"

"He won't _let_ me walk. Every time I try, he headbutts me to the floor."

Optimus heaved a great sigh, and turned back to his dilemma. "What are the chances that this room will not explode?"

Sam puffed out his cheeks in thought."...This is Wheeljack, remember?"

_If even Sam had managed to draw a conclusion about Wheeljack..._

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Optimus felt a pawing at his lower leg, and looked down to see Hot Rod's beseeching optics. "Would you like to be blown into oblivion with me?"

Suddenly he noticed that a certain yellow sparkling and adopted human were no longer there.

He glanced around, at the same time extending his sensor range; luckily, it didn't take long to locate the scout.

Looking up, Optimus saw Bumblebee and Sam above his helm, in yet _another_ tunnel.

"...Good work, Bumblebee." Lifting Hot Rod into the overhead passageway, the large mech then hoisted himself into it.

* * *

Prowl blinked wearily at Red Alert.

Ratchet prodded him in a professional manner. "...What exactly happened to your energy levels?"

Red Alert, who was sitting beside Prowl on the edge of Ratchet's examination table, poked him.

"I was-"

"Up all night?"

"I wasn-" Prowl stopped. "Yes, I was, but-"

"Why in Pit were you up _all night_?" Although posed as a question, the way Ratchet's voice sounded very, very controlled and the way his optics and fingers were twitching made Prowl worried.

Prowl's doorwings drooped, attracting Sunny's attention. He winced as the golden sparkling fastened himself to a doorwing by teeth alone.

"What reason could you _possibly_ have that would even come _close_ to justifying disobeying my orders-?!" Ratchet near-on howled, shaking with Wrath.

"I was only trying to... I just didn't want to do anything incorrectly...!" Prowl looked desperately at his charges. Sunny gurgled and climbed onto his knee, joining his twin, who had decided to suck on Prowl's forearm.

Ratchet's gaze adjusted itself to regard Sunny and Sides suspiciously. "You stayed up all night to make sure _they_ were okay."

"...N-noooo. They could have assaulted me by surprise in the night. This wouldn't do, so I refused to give them the opportunity to do so."

Ratchet rolled his optics. "Or, how about they could have woken up, needed you, and wailed to get your attention. Don't give me that 'I don't care' rubbish."

"I'm not giving you 'rubbish'. It's the tru-"

The CMO narrowed his optics.

Prowl sighed. "Fine. I was worried. I thought I might not have woken up and realised if they needed me."

"...You think they wouldn't be able to get your attention?"

"Valid point, but still."

Ratchet sighed at Red Alert. "Idiots, one and all. I'm the only sane one."

Sunny shrieked suddenly (catching sight of the chevron) and flung himself at Prowl's face.

Sideswipe scowled and tackled him to the table, where they rolled around.

Prowl rubbed his face and sighed. Ratchet side-glanced Red Alert, who solemnly shook his helm.

"...Prowl...? You need to control them."

"How, Ratchet?" The second wailed. "I would if there was some logic to them! How can they be worse than before?! It's impossible!"

The medic felt like exploding, but seeing the state the other mech was in, controlled himself. "Prowl. Are you, or are you not a tactician?"

Prowl needed facts. As expected, he clung to them desperately.

"Yes," he replied, trembling slightly.

"And you are the best of both factions?"

As the black and white mech thought, his shaking began to ease off.

"Yes, you are," Ratchet assured. "Think of who the Decepticons have."

"...Fine, it looks like I am," Prowl concurred, "But we all have specialities-"

"So gain a new one," Ratchet commanded. "Twin control."

Prowl twitched.

"That's an order," the CMO continued.

There was suddenly a glint in Prowl's optics. "Consider it in progress."

Each twin was grasped firmly by the scruff before he strode out purposefully.

Ratchet blinked. "That was unexpected."

* * *

"Look, Arcee! A giant-"

Ironhide watched as Jetfire pointed out random things to their teammate.

He twirled a cannon, attracting the shuttle's attention. "Say, Jetfire. Why don't we go and blow something up?"

"B-but what about-"

"She's Arcee. She likes to blow things up."

"D-does she?"

"Yes."

"Oh... okay."

Ironhide beamed, and they headed towards the Training Room.

"...You sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course it is. When isn't it?"

Jetfire thought about this, and thought of many answers. He also considered the likelihood of Ironhide accepting any of them.

This internal debate was still going as they arrived at their destination.

Ironhide's cannons extended happily.

Jetfire frowned at them. "I-Ironhide?"

The black mech scowled. "What?"

He regretted his sharp response instantly, as Jetfire cringed away.

"N-never mind..."

"No, ask me."

"It's o-okay-"

"I didn't mean to snap at you."

Jetfire's black antennae pricked."R-really?"

"Of course I didn't, you... honestly." He rolled his optics. "Ask."

"Well... I was just wondering to what extent do you actually c-control your cannons?"

The other mech looked back at him blankly.

"...Um, maybe not."

Ironhide focused on breathing. "Ask me again. Pretend I'm Sam. Talk to me like you would _Sam_."

Jetfire thought, only to be interrupted by a cuff from the shorter Autobot.

"You're _sucking_."

The shuttle removed his hand from his mouth guiltily. "...Do your c-cannons do stu- ...stuff by themselves? Like, without you moving them?"

"_That's_ more like it," Ironhide beamed. "And, in response, I can't provide a certain answer. Sometimes it's an unconscious reaction to a situation. If I'm happy, they reflect this. If I'm not, they reflect it."

Jetfire smiled back. "I thought you c-couldn't talk in technical terms."

"I can't."

"B-but you just did!"

Ironhide frowned. "Well, that was weird. I guess you're right."

They entered the massive room- although it was more like a separate building- together, Arcee beeping happily.

The Weapons Specialist clapped. "Map, randomise. Level fifteen, authorised. We're not leaving until we obliterate them all!"

Jetfire's optics boggled as the doors slammed shut behind them, making him jump. "B-but-"

"Don't worry, kid. I'll watch your back."

The large mech waved Arcee in Ironhide's face.

"...Ah. Well, she'll deal with it."

"She's a sparkling!"

"Would she want you to discriminate against her in such a fashion?"

Jetfire remained twitching quietly, replies deciding not to present themselves.

"Well, don't just stand there," Ironhide ordered as the room flickered and began shifting into a bumpy terrain. "We don't know what we're going to be doing, so you had better prepare."

"I'm holding a sparkling!"

"That's no excuse, you bludge! Would you say that if you were in the middle of a battlefield? Would you just stand there? I know you're not a weakling. Get on with it."

Jetfire whined. Ironhide was about to _encourage _him further, but Arcee frowned and (getting there first) slapped him.

Wincing, the shuttle quickly pulled out a rifle.

"Good lad. Let's be off-!" Ironhide cheered, thundering away.

Jetfire groaned as he followed. Why did he get the feeling this was going to be painful?

* * *

Now having to crawl through the smaller tunnel, Optimus cursed Wheeljack for the fifty-seven time that orn.

However, progress was being made; Megatron's shouts seemed to be getting closer, even if he had no idea where he was going.

After five left turns and being whacked in the face by something dangling from the ceiling, Optimus finally saw what he was looking for; the window.

"GET BACK HEEEEERREEEE!" Megatron suddenly roared. There were several loud thuds.

Optimus, on hands and knees, peered out of the window.

Hot Rod shoved his helm under Optimus' chin, and looked out too.

Bumblebee squeaked unhappily, unable to see.

"Up, 'bee! Go up there!" Sam pointed.

The scout clicked in understanding, then climbed onto Optimus' helm, peeking through his antennae.

Prime was about to shake his helm to rid himself of the weight, then remembered it was Bumblebee. "Look, sparklings," he commented, pointing out a large angry shape with waving arms. "See Uncle Megatron? He's not very happy."

Hot Rod gasped.

"See that small... blob?"

Sam could just see a brightly coloured shape clinging onto a wall opposite them. "What's that, then?"

"Starscream, I believe."

"...So what's he doing on the wall?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Optimus shrugged.

"I don't _have_ a guess, though."

"_Exactly_." The large Autobot decided to consult Megatron over their spark-bond. _...What are you doing?_

His brother roared at him. "WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M DOING?!"

_Clearly not using our bond, that's what._

"I AM_ **MEGATRON**! I _NEED NO BOND TO EXPRESS MYSELF!_"_

_Right, wonderful. _Prime continued after a pause in which Bumblebee cuddled Sam. _We'll celebrate that later, but what **are** you doing?_

"I'M AFTER THE WRETCH," Megatron howled back.

Optimus winced, but persisted. _What's he done now?_

"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT HE'S _GOING_ TO BE DOING WHEN HE'S BACK TO HIS USUAL SELF! HE'S GOING TO BE-"

"STOP!" Optimus shrieked. "YOU'LL BE CORRUPTING BUMBLEBEE! STOP NOW!"

Megatron hesitated, seeing the reasoning. "BUT YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY!"

"I CAN HAZARD A GUESS!"

"THEN GUESS!"

"NO! BUMBLEBEE WILL HEAR!"

"FINE!" Megatron raged. "FINE! BE THAT WAY!"

Optimus didn't really have a worthwhile response apart from 'I will,' so he simply watched.

"GET HERE NOOOOOW!" Megatron stamped his foot.

The shape that was Starscream wailed faintly, and clung to the wall.

"IF YOU DARE BE CRYING, I'M GOING TO SHOVE-"

"MEGATRON! NO!"

The Decepticon pointed angrily at his brother. "I'M ON IT!"

Looking up, Megatron could clearly see Starscream navigating his way along the building.

"WHAT THE PIT ARE YOU EVEN DOING?! GET DOWN HERE! ...DON'T GIVE ME THAT! I KNOW THAT LOOK! COME HERE NOOOOOW!" His spark felt a calming presence. "FRAG OFF, OPTIMUS!"

_Why don't you just fly up and get him?_

Megatron pouted. _"_HE'S SUPPOSED TO COME TO ME! I SHALL NOT BEND TO HIS WILL!_"_

_He's not asking you to go and retrieve him though, is he? So you won't be 'bending' anywhere._

Megatron looked up, seeing Optimus shrug at him out of a window.

Right. So, he had nothing to lose. "GET HERE NOOOOOWWWWW OR I'M COMING FOR YOU!"

Starscream froze, helm snapping round. Megatron exhaled with relief. Finally.

There was a tiny growl before the Seeker continued climbing.

Megatron could just _feel_ Optimus wince.

"YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO TURN AROUND!"

Starscream, nearing the roof, sped his ascent.

_Five, four, three- _to PIT with counting, it took too long.

In the short time it took Megatron to reach the roof, the sparkling had clambered over the lip.

With a growl, he landed and glanced around, locating Starscream almost immediately.

"YOUUUUU...!" he roared, before remembering he didn't need to shout in such close proximity.

Well, this hadn't stopped him any time before, but this was (sort of) different.

With three large strides, he stood over the mechling, who was sitting by an air vent.

"What do you _think_ you're doing?"

Starscream looked up and warbled, then, after briefly turning back to the vent, scratched at his foot.

Megatron glared back and snarled.

With a tiny squeak, the mechling shrunk away.

The Decepticon Commander scowled. "Do you ever change?"

Starscream suddenly sprang towards the edge of the building, and crouched on the very rim.

"What are you doing? Get back here now!"

The Seeker leaned over the edge.

"No, no no no- Don't do that! YOU CAN'T FLY!"

Starscream whimpered, then twitched his wings and peered over again.

Megatron winced, not daring to get any closer lest his Air Commander dive to his death.

The Seeker twittered at him, then simply turned away and dropped from sight.

Blinking, Megatron dropped to his knees, speechless.

For the second time, Starscream was gone. And there would be no coming back from a fall like that for a sparkling, no matter who they were in adult-hood.

He didn't know how long he was there for. Time had slowed, it seemed. Or maybe it had sped by?

Eventually, some quiet words finally escaped him. "_Starscream_, I thi-"

Immediately, two optics appeared over the lip of the roof, followed by a loud yap.

The slight figure of Starscream climbed back over the edge, and hurried towards him.

Megatron twitched. "I'm dreaming. Maybe this is all a dream."

The Seeker paused in front of him, helm tilted questioningly.

"Well, you're very lifelike," he continued, reaching out with a claw to poke him.

Starscream bit him.

"Very, very lif- YOU'RE ALIVE!" Megatron ignored the pain. "ONLY YOU WOULD BITE ME!"

He crashed onto his back with relief, sighing.

Starscream yelped, then scrambled down his body to paw at his arm.

Megatron didn't bother to get up, but tapped his own chassis. "If I remember rightly, you liked it here."

The Seeker squealed and scuttled to the indicated point, where he immediately curled up.

They lay quietly for a while, watching the clouds.

"See that, Starscream?" Megatron pointed upwards. "That's the sky."

The Seeker tried to grab it, and growled when his claws closed on nothing but –in all irony- air.

"You can't _own_ the sky." Seeing Starscream pout, he continued. "But oddly enough, you _can_ master it."

"Oooooaaaaaaah," the sparkling replied.

Megatron sat up quickly, only the Seeker's incredible reaction time saving him from being thrown to the floor.

Clinging onto his chassis, Starscream pouted.

"Did you just say something?"

Starscream blinked.

"You did!" Megatron nearly fainted with excitement. "Right. Say..."

As usual, when you try to think of any word- _any_ word, no words present themselves except the most ridiculous.

"...Tentacles?"

Starscream looked as if he was about to cry.

"Or not. How about... squishy?"

* * *

By the time Optimus had managed to wriggle out of Wheeljack's Wacky Warehouse, the inventor was laughing happily.

"Do you have a _reason_ to be cheerful?"

"_Reasons to be cheerful, part three-!_"

"Bumblebee! You speak!" Sam cried. "Isn't it a bit early for him to be speaking?"

The yellow sparkling looked at him and giggled, licking one of his antennae.

Optimus shuddered at the tickling sensation. "Or maybe he didn't."

"I've finished the machine, Prime. It is ready to roll!"

"Are you sure? Perhaps we should consult Jetfire."

"Feel free," Wheeljack shrugged.

//_Jetfire! Can you get up here? Wheeljack thinks he's completed fixing the device._//

There was a long pause.

//_Suck on **that**,_// crowed the shuttle suddenly.

//_ACE SHOT,_// Ironhide bellowed. //_...Oh, Optimus? We're busy.//_

There was a happy giggle.

A deafening boom shook the air outside, and Optimus growled. "I am not going to find that window again."

//_...Maybe we **will** be able to get to you quickly,_// Jetfire corrected.

"STOP WITH THE BOOMS! SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO CONCENTRATE HERE-" Megatron's bellow was cut off suddenly. There was another thud, and the ceiling cracked.

Optimus groaned and went to hide in the playground. Wheeljack stood there and smiled.

The Prime frowned. //_Ratchet, do you think Wheeljack has a few screws loose?//_

//_Of course he does,//_ the medic replied. //_That's nothing new.//_

//_But he's just standing there, in the way of Impending Doom_!//

//_He stands in the way of Doom, you hurl yourself into it.//_

//_It's not the same!_//

Megatron suddenly smashed through the ceiling, crashing into the floor with a deafening bang.

Optimus winced, then emerged from his tunnel.

Instead of a barrage of insults, Megatron seemed deliriously happy. "He said it!"

Wheeljack frowned. "That was reinforced. How did you-"

"I am Megatron...! Reinforced means nothing!" Megatron turned back to his brother. "He said it!"

"You've lost me."

"Isn't it obvious?" The Decepticon pointed at Starscream, who had buried his helm into Megatron's neck.

"You've obviously scared him with your _booming_."

"Pah," Megatron rolled his optics. "I told him to say his name, and-"

"He said his own name??!"

"...Um, sort of."

"Sort of? Did he struggle with the pronunciation?"

Megatron pursed his lips in thought. "You _could_ say that."

Optimus looked at the sparkling. "Are you going to tell me your name, Starscream?"

"Ah," Megatron suddenly remembered. "I need to see Ratchet. Um... look after him till I get back."

He thrust the Seeker into Prime's arms, and left.

"A little warning would be nice," the Autobot muttered, glancing at Starscream, who flinched, looking away.

The flamed mech sighed, and sat down on the floor, Starscream on his lap.

Bumblebee slid off of his helm and landed on Hot Rod, who snapped at him.

The two sparklings snapped at each other, Hot Rod throwing Bumblebee into the wall.

The scout shook his helm, sprang at the other, and knocked him to the floor.

"Bumblebee! Put Sam down!"

The scout blinked, but quickly placed Sam on the floor before being tackled by the other sparkling.

"That's Bumblebee, Starscream. Remember Bumblebee? And _that's_ Hot Rod biting him. And do you see the tiny person? That's _Sam_. Sam is our friend. We like Sam. Sam has saved our race, you know."

Starscream looked at the teenager, then back up at him, optics wide.

Optimus looked down at him with a smile. "You are a cute little thing, aren't you?"

The sparkling twittered, then cuddled up to his chassis.

Sam plonked himself down by the Autobot's side. "...Thanks for getting me out of that, Optimus."

"No problem, Sam."

They watched Bumblebee and Hot Rod fight for a bit.

"Aren't they getting a bit vicious?"

"Oh, they're fine," Optimus waved a hand. "You should see a proper sparkling fight. According to Ratchet, Ironhide was a horrid beast."

Sam tried to smile. "And how would Ratchet know?"

"He was the one fighting him."

"...That's... nice."

A quiet voice suddenly made itself known. "Useless."

Optimus twitched. "Excuse me?"

Starscream flinched.

"No, no," Prime quickly amended. "What did you say?"

The sparkling visibly took a breath to prepare himself. "_Useless_."

Optimus' mouth was left hanging open.

Bumblebee jumped up and closed it, then dived away from a growling Hot Rod.

"Useless?"

Starscream nodded, smiling.

"You're not called useless!"

The Seeker blinked at him, then pointed at the tussling sparklings. "S-Stham."

Optimus turned to look, and saw Bumblebee clutching Sam. This was usual.

What was not usual was Hot Rod clinging onto Sam's arm and tugging.

"No, Hot Rod!"

The sparkling ignored him.

"RODIMUS!"

The red and yellow Autobot immediately let go and crawled over.

Optimus looked at him disapprovingly. "That wasn't nice of you. You could have ripped Sam's arm off. You can't do that to him."

Bumblebee, hunched over the human, shrieked in agreement.

Hot Rod pouted.

Starscream sniffed at him. "Useless."

"Thank you, Starscream."

Hot Rod's cheek twitched.

"Don't you dare cry," Optimus warned. "You were the naughty one. Don't make me feel guilt-"

The sparkling wailed suddenly, small hands bunched into his optics.

Optimus' fingers twitched. "No, no! Stop crying! Ahhh-!"

Looking around for help (and seeing Wheeljack swaying from side to side, humming), he saw none.

With a sigh, he held Hot Rod to his chassis and rocked him slightly. "It's okay... I think. Even though you're in the wrong, you've made me feel guilty. Wasn't that mean of you?"

Sam winced, clutching his arm. "...Ow."

Bumblebee cuddled Sam gently and burbled at him.

Starscream hopped off of Optimus, and crawled over, helm tilting as he regarded the human.

"Stham..." he declared, pointing.

Sam and Bumblebee looked up as one.

"Did you just say my name?"

"Stham," Starscream confirmed.

Heavy footsteps announced Megatron's arrival.

Optimus lifted his helm to see the Decepticon looking at him strangely. "What?"

"...I never noticed the similarities before. He's yours, isn't he?"

"Excuse me?"

"He must be!" Megatron nodded at Hot Rod. "He's got little flames and everything."

"Hot Rod? Mine?" Optimus was unable to articulate further.

"It's okay. If you want to keep it quiet, you can _trust_ me. Where's Starscream?"

The Seeker clapped, squeaking, then pointed. "Stham!"

"Stham? What in Pit is a Stham?" Megatron followed the talon. "Ohhh... Sam. _Ohhho_, I _see_."

Sam was slightly unnerved. "Hide me, 'bee..."

Bumblebee squeezed the teenager tightly to him.

Starscream's optics widened and he shook his helm. "Stham!"

Megatron walked over and bent down. "Sam, not Stham."

"Stham!"

"Sam."

"Sthaaaam."

"**Sam**."

Starscream growled, and jabbed a talon in their direction. "Stham!"

"Don't growl at _me_, Seeker."

Starscream pouted. "Useless."

"Don't call me useless!"

The sparkling huffed.

"If you can't say something, don't say it," Megatron continued.

Optimus bit his lip. "That's a bit unfair. He's very young to be saying anything at all-"

"Well, he can stay silent until he can talk properly."

"How will he talk properly if he never practises?"

"...Useless Stham."

Sam shook a fist. "Excuse me! Will you lot stop calling me useless, or weak? It may be true, but it's really upsetting!"

Starscream quickly moved closer, and argued with Bumblebee with squeaks and beeps.

"...Know what they're saying?"

Megatron scowled. "Of course not. I don't speak sparkling."

"You did the other day to stop Starscream's wailings."

"That wasn't sparkling, you idiot. That was Seeker."

Optimus was shocked. "You speak Seeker?"

"Not really," Megatron admitted.

Bumblebee slowly put Sam on the floor, where he stood nervously. "Um... what's happening?"

"We don't know," the brothers replied simultaneously, then glared at each other.

Starscream looked at him, then suddenly nibbled on his arm.

Sam's eyes bulged to an impossible size. "WHAT THE-"

The loud noise startled the Seeker, but he didn't let go. Bumblebee watched, but surprisingly did nothing.

"You don't look like you're in pain, boy," Megatron noted.

"I'm in great pai- you're right. I'm not," Sam frowned. "So what's he _doiiiiinnng_?"

The Decepticon shrugged. "No idea."

"Yes, you do," Optimus accused.

Megatron glared and replied in Cybertronian.

Sam tried to tug his arm away, but failed miserably. "Owwww..."

Bumblebee whined unhappily, but Starscream growled at him.

"But-"

"No buts," Megatron cut Optimus off. "It's already done."

"But-"

"Are you dumb?"

Optimus sighed. "You could have told me."

"I didn't know!"

They broke off as Starscream finally released Sam with a satisfied twitter.

There was a pause. "...HE BIT ME!"

"We know, Sam."

"YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

"It didn't hurt you, though," Optimus justified.

"Not the point!" Sam inspected his arm, and found it slightly punctured. "How can I not be in pain when he's actually bitten me?"

Megatron snapped his claws, and Starscream scurried over to perch on his arm. "Clever boy."

The Seeker practically _glowed_.

Bumblebee whimpered, and looked at Sam, who held out his other hand. "I'm okay, 'bee. See?"

Optimus picked them both up, and settled them in the arm not containing a (now recharging) Hot Rod.

Sam flexed his arm. "What was that about?"

"Um... nothing?"

"You sounded like you were lying, but you're Optimus. You don't lie, so cool."

Optimus was left slightly befuddled, but decided not to question the human, instead turning his attention to his brother, who was talking to Starscream.

"Are you going to say your name?"

"Useless," Starscream replied.

"No, your name," Optimus tried helpfully. "What do we call you?"

The Seeker's tiny forehelm crinkled in thought. "...Zeffer."

"Zeffer? Where the Pit did that come from?"

"...Zephyr...?!"

"Oh, Zephyr," Megatron remembered. "No, that's not your name. We called you _Starscream_."

"Zepherr?"

"Zeph-yr," Optimus said slowly.

"Don't encourage him to say that! He'll think it's his name!"

"Zephyr would be better than Useless."

"Pehh."

"What's taking Jetfire so long?" Optimus wondered, standing up and beginning to pace.

As if he had been waiting for an appropriate cue, the shuttle burst through the door. "Sorry about that..."

"Ugh," Starscream announced.

"Dirty and disgusting," Megatron added.

Jetfire flinched, then looked down at himself. His usual spotless armour _was_ decidedly filthy. "About the appearance, sir. Ironhide told me to tell you that I've been blowing up drones. _Fragging_ drones," he added.

"Anything else?"

"...He's not happy that we had to stop, but he's on his way with Arcee."

"Right. Go and have a look."

Jetfire knelt by the machine, and checked it over.

They watched impatiently as he thoroughly examined it.

"...Actually, I think it-"

Wheeljack hit the device happily. "It's sound, I tell you."

There was a whirr as it activated.

Optimus shook his helm disbelievingly. "Oh, no."

Megatron swore, then thought better of it. "...Don't you dare repeat that, Starscream."

Starscream thought, then pointed at Wheeljack. "Useless."

The Decepticon nodded threateningly. "If I turn into a sparkling, you, _engineer_, are going to suffer."

Wheeljack twitched.

"Listen to me, Wheeljack," Jetfire grabbed him by the shoulders. "You've got the internal systems mixed. You need to make sure the polarities are reversed, and the chip is-" He froze as the device burst into action, enveloping him with light. "Drat."

The machine threw light into all corners of the room, then promptly proceeded to implode.

* * *

Heheh. Was that a cliffhanger?

...The "YOU CAN'T FLY!" line reminds me of two films. One of them being Toy Story (naturally) and the other with someone shouting "YOU CAN'T _SWIM_!"

But I can't remember which film it was. :D

Just to let you know, I haven't forgotten about your wonderful suggestions that you gave around chapter 11 (?)

I'm working through them slowly! I think I've done about three, now. So, the rest will be coming up soon! I haven't forgotten you! xD

Oooh, and a question for you.

For our lovely Transformers, do you think they have antennae, or antennas? There's a difference, you know! xD

Behold!

**Antennas** - a technical term meaning more than one antenna or aerial- a metallic appendage for receiving or sending electromagnetic waves,

but...

**Antennae** - a zoological term meaning more than one antenna of an insect nature- primarily an organ of touch :D

I mean, you'd clearly think it would be the first one, them being metallic and all. But I can't help thinking of a satellite-thing when I say 'antennas'.

What do you beautiful people think? Hope you enjoyed! xD


	17. Chapter 17

There has been a distressing lack of updates mid-week recently. (Bar the lovely **Clumsy Peg's **Update Extravaganza, that is. :3)

So... I decided to cheer you all up and distract you from work with a new chapter!

Great stuff, eh? Aren't you thrilled? :D

Right; note worthy things.

1: I forgot a deleted scene last chapter. O.O, I know! I'll get on to changing that for next update, mayhap. :D

2: I feel rather guilty now. Remember how I asked you all about antennae/antennas last chapter?

...The majority of you _did_ say antennas, and I know why, as I completely agree with you.

Except, it was one of those moments where you ask someone to choose- they pick something, and you realise it's the other one you want. This is what happened.

Sorry, beautiful Transfans. I'm rolling with _antennae_. It just looks _right_ to me.

Please don't beat me with sticks.

3: This is the wonderful point. To fully appreciate Sam's reaction later in the chapter, you'll need to watch a video on Youtube. Type in _Worst Line Reading Ever_. It seriously brought tears to my eyes one day, after about seven repeats. :D

...I watched it _over nine_ _**thou****saaaaaand** _times. (Joke). You can watch it after reading, if you like.

It just gives me great laughs whenever I think about it. _Aaand_ because you can start saying it at school. And people who _know_ join in with you. xD

Yes, sad, I know.

4: (pause for badly controlled emotion)

:3

This face can barely express the love I feel for you all. Fifteen reviews. :3 _Fifteen_.

**laureas**, **Grumpy Old Diamond**, **LovelyIAmNot**, **JuJill**, **Heir to the World**, **-Zanzizarr-**, **Splatter** **Fall**, **Pikaseel**, **9aza**, **Kittisbat**, **Lioness09Wolf**, **Crossfire1205**, **Clumsy ****Peg**, **Captai****n Arianna Trouble** and **Victoria-BlackHeart**, you have **all **broken this Beast.

I surely hope that this fic makes you nearly as happy as your ideas and comments make me... :}

(**-Zanzizarr-**, **Lioness09Wolf **and **laureas**, have a hearty welcome from me. Welcome to the fold of insanity. :3)

ONWARDS!

* * *

After getting over the shock (and managing to avoid most of the random flying rubble), Megatron found himself on his hands and knees. He shook his helm, and looked around. "...Starscream?"

"_Use_less," the Seeker quietly scowled from underneath him, clutching Megatron's leg and quivering.

Megatron inspected him carefully for injury. "We seem to be agreeing more frequently now you can only say one word."

"Stham?"

"Doesn't count. You can't pronounce it."

"STHAM-!" the Seeker shrieked, suddenly diving forwards. Megatron quickly grabbed him. It was a reflexive action he seemed to have towards diving Starscreams.

Ratchet's approaching voice made its debut. "Who's accounted for _this_ time?"

"WHAT THE FRAG ARE YOU DOING? PUT ME DOWN!"

"Wha- this isn't fair! I was carrying you-"

"So chivalrous, _not_!"

Ironhide walked into the room, fuming, with an unfortunately fully mature- although this could be debated- Arcee in his arms. "Explain _this,_ anyone?"

Ratchet followed with a huge scowl. "_Wheeeeeljack-!_"

He strode over to the smiling engineer, sucked in a rattling breath, and promptly smashed something into his interfacing panel. "You will _never_ have sparklings. If it's my life's work, I'll make sure you _never_ reproduce."

Wheeljack crumpled slowly to the floor, still half-smiling.

"GET OFF ME!"

"Gladly," Ironhide replied, dropping the femme on the spot.

"Who _else_ is accounted for?"

"Me, I think," groaned Hot Rod, clutching his helm as he got to his feet.

"Helm-ache?"

"No," the Autobot replied. "I just felt like being dramatic."

"That's because you're an _idiot_-!" Arcee picked herself up and punched him soundly.

He swayed once before toppling over, his body as stiff as jelly isn't.

"Well, we all missed _you_," Red Alert sighed, peeking around the corner.

Arcee whipped around. "What indignities have I suffered? What did you all do? This conspiracy ends now!"

Ironhide frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Ratchet sighed. "Red Alert, get your aft in here."

The mech did so.

"...Do you remember anything?"

"Of what?" The medic shrugged. "There was a bright blue flash, then..."

"Then?"

"Then you were talking to me."

"Nothing else?"

"One of your optics bulged, and the fingers of your favoured hand were twitching, indicating a burst of anger was forthcoming."

"JETFIIIIIIRE!"

Ratchet turned to see Ironhide staring at a white sparkling. "Oh, frag. More?"

The black mech headed towards his tinified teammate. "...Oh, Jet. What's that fragging aft gone and done to you??"

Jetfire's optics widened in terror and he darted away, taking refuge behind a table.

The movement caught Starscream's attention, and his helm snapped around.

Megatron grasped him around the middle-to an unhappy pout- and stood with a cheerful sneer. "Where in Pit is Prime? HAHA! This is my chance to obliterate you all!"

Arcee raised an optic ridge. "With or without your sparkling Air Support?"

Megatron's snarl was lost as Ironhide froze in pursuit of Jetfire, realising what the Decepticon had just said. "Slag."

Ratchet scanned the room. "Jazz, tell me you're not a sparkling."

There was a small sucking sound. "**_Awh, didn't know you cared, Ratch._**"

"I don't, particularly. It's just that none of us know where you are. You'd be doomed."

"**_...So you care, just a little bit?_**"

"No. Where's Prime?"

"**_Say you caaaaaare,_**" whined the saboteur.

"Don't push me."

"**_Fine-! Check out Bumblebee. Left, left- no, little to the right, stop being blind- there y'go!_**"

Ratchet caught sight of the still-tiny scout, who was crying and scrambling up the side of the construction.

Glancing up, the CMO saw a red and blue sparkling splatted against some strong mesh. "Optimus!"

The sparkling turned his helm miserably and beeped.

Megatron twitched, staring.

There was silence for a moment.

"OPTIMUS! I'M COMING!"

Hot Rod was taken aback as the Decepticon shot into the air and hovered by his tiny brother, who was whining unhappily.

"Come here, pookie." Megatron tenderly wrapped his claws around Optimus, then lifted him away. "It's okay! I've got you, haven't I?"

Ratchet scratched his helm. "...Right."

Ironhide- seeing his Commander was in no danger- took a step towards Jetfire, who whimpered, cowering towards the wall. "What in the Pit is wrong with him?"

Arcee snorted. "Maybe the threatening 'step' towards him didn't help. I mean, come on. You're hardly what I'd call a nice-looking hunk of metal."

"I don't want to be called a '_nice-looking hunk of metal_.'" Ironhide paused. "Not by _you_, anyway. You have _no _room to talk."

The CMO sighed, seeing Arcee's bulging optics. He cut across her undoubtedly pleasant reply. "You have to remember we don't _know_ what happened in Jetfire's sparklinghood; it's likely his nerves come from a stimulus at a young age. If your processor can handle the idea of anything else _bar_ exploding targets."

Ironhide thought for a moment. "It can be equally as satisfying to watch them slowly fall to the ground, instead of exploding. Sometimes they clench their fists in desperation or fury when they realise they've been fatally wounded. Others try to spew out some final words. Most often, it's a kill mid-sentence- which provokes odd or amusing phrases."

Ratchet looked to the ceiling for inspiration (not of the Jazz variety).

Starscream, who had been watching Jetfire intently, scuttled up to the shuttle with a twitter.

The white sparkling stared back at him, then frowned slightly.

Starscream tilted his helm slightly as he inspected the other mechling.

They watched each other quietly for a long period. Then, in unison, they lifted their arms to their mouths.

Starscream nibbled on his wrist, and Jetfire sucked on his hand.

"Is this synchronised sucking day?" Arcee wondered.

"Oh, shut up," Ratchet snapped.

Bumblebee, helm following Optimus' progress back to the ground, whined and scurried back to the floor. When he reached the ground, he looked around, then frowned. He beeped before rapidly spinning around in circles, with long squeaks.

"...Where _is_ Sam?" Hot Rod asked. "Is he what Bumblebee's after now?"

"My sensors aren't picking him up at all," Red Alert frowned, scanning the room.

"Well, they might not if he's somewhere in _there_." Ratchet nodded at the Warehouse.

Megatron looked up from tickling Optimus' chin. "What's this?"

Optimus squealed, grabbing one of his claws.

"Sam. We can't see him."

"Sam? Who is Sam?"

Ironhide frowned. "You know who Sam is."

Megatron thought. "No."

"The human you constantly seek out to kill and/or maim?"

"Oh, come on. That doesn't narrow it down much."

"Don't suppose it does. You never really succeed, do you? The boy you like to touch-"

"Ah-!" Megatron brightened. "**Boy**! You should have _said_. The _boy_! The _boy_ with his soft, malleable body!"

Ratchet massaged his optics slowly. "Yes, _Sam_."

"The _boy_. So, what's the problem?"

"We can't locate him. Our sensors cannot pick him up- what exactly _is_ the point in me telling you this?"

Megatron heaved a happy sigh. "I can find you the _boy_."

"...You can?"

"I am _Megatron_. Of course I can."

Ironhide waved a hand. "Well, how about you do so?"

"Don't order _me_ around, Autobot. Hierarchy; you're low in it."

Ironhide was about to make a snappy comeback when Ratchet glared at him.

The huge Decepticon pursed his lips, and thought for an extended period of time before he shrugged. "Through no prompting of your own, I have a sudden desire to find the boy." He whistled, and Starscream whipped around. "Here, boy."

"**_What is it with you and-_**"

"Jazz! Not _now_!" Ratchet hissed threateningly.

Starscream hurried over to the large mech.

Megatron snapped the claws of one hand, and the Seeker scrambled up to perch on his arm.

Optimus giggled, reaching out with one hand to touch the other sparkling, but Starscream's wings bristled and he tried to bite the tiny Prime, hissing.

Megatron instantly snarled at him. The Seeker flinched, then whined unhappily.

The Decepticon turned back to his brother. "Not now, Optimus; Starscream has something to do."

He paused, with a meaningful look at Starscream. The sparkling frowned at him.

"Why should I expect you to _ever_ please me? To one day surprise me by just _knowing_ and _doing_ what I want you to do, without fuss, delay, or whinging?" Megatron sighed. "Very well, useless."

The Autobots all waited for his next words.

There was a long pause as his face screwed up. "...What was his name again?"

"SAM!"

Megatron sniffed, then addressed the sparkling. "**Sam_._**"

Starscream perked up. "Stham?"

"No, twerp. _Sam_."

The Seeker nodded excitedly. "Stham, Stham!"

"Primus. I'm going to give up on you. SAAAAM."

Starscream frowned slightly before speaking. "Sthhaaaaaaaaaam...?"

"ARGHH! How hard is it to say SAM?"

The Seeker whimpered. "Useless?"

"Too right," Megatron snorted. "Very well. You clearly know who Sam is." He paused. "Who is Sam, again?"

Ironhide's cannons shifted slightly. "The boy."

"_Boy_! Yes, I remember." He pointed suddenly at the Warehouse.

Optimus pointed at the Warehouse, too.

"Starscream, **_seek Sam_**."

The sparkling yapped excitedly, then dived to the floor, where he circled, sniffing.

After a moment or two, he started to twitter, then stopped, looking back to Megatron.

"The _boy_, Starscream... the** _boy_**!"

The Seeker returned to his job, whistling and chirping occasionally. After another minute or two, he sat back with a long whine, wings drooping.

Ironhide sighed. "Nice idea, but he obviously-"

Walking closer to the sparkling, Megatron knelt down, sitting Optimus on the floor nearby. Starscream bowed his helm miserably and refused to look him in the optics.

What Megatron said softly to the Seeker, none of the Autobots caught.

The Decepticon pointed at the floor, then at Starscream before briefly tapping his own chassis, talking in a low voice all the while.

The Seeker eventually looked up. Megatron nodded, then nudged him.

Starscream yapped, wings flickering, then bounded back to the floor, nasal plating twitching as he slowly covered the area.

"Maybe I spoke too soon," Ironhide commented.

"Don't raise your hopes up," Ratchet snorted.

"Come on. He does look alright so far."

"He's just a sparkling. There-"

Starscream shrieked suddenly, clawing the ground with great enthusiasm.

Megatron clenched a fist and pumped it. "Get _in_... _good_ boy, Starscream."

The mechling squeaked, pausing in his scratchings.

"Looks like someone _can_ be nice," Arcee sniffed.

Megatron's optics narrowed, and he quickly snapped at Starscream. "Seek the boy_, _useless."

Starscream nodded firmly, glancing up at the Warehouse once before bounding in.

"What the frag was _that?_" Hot Rod muttered.

Megatron snorted. "I would not expect _you_ to understand."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?!"

Ratchet whistled. "How long did it take you to...?"

Megatron shook his helm slightly. "A very, _very_ long time. And it took a _lot_ of effort and perseverance."

"You'd better hope that his mental age is set after you taught him, then."

"He's gone, hasn't he?"

"So has Bumblebee," the CMO pointed out.

Hot Rod (upon seeing a bright yellow aft streak away) flung himself after his teammate and managed to catch him before he entered the structure.

Ironhide faintly remembered something. "I thought that our race had given up on trying to do that."

"They had," Ratchet's optics narrowed. "For a number of reasons. One being that the Seekers couldn't actually seek specific items, and another being that they were too vicious to send after _living_ targets."

Megatron huffed. "I found a way around both, thank you."

"Really? ...How?"

"Ironhide," Ratchet mused, "why do you care? It doesn't have anything to do with blowing anyone up, or cannons."

"Right now, Jetfire would be very excited," Ironhide sighed. "If Megatron is correct, this could be a breakthrough. He'll want the details."

"I'm not giving any details," Megatron snapped. "I didn't work my aft off for everyone else to thrust themselves onto the bandwagon."

"Well, he could always ask Starscream," Hot Rod butted in, jiggling Bumblebee.

The Decepticon snickered. "You think _he_ knows? He wouldn't r-" He stopped himself. "I'm not talking about it. Some clue may spill out."

Huffing, Ironhide turned away to see Jetfire curled up in a corner, sniffling.

Ratchet watched as his oldest friend approached the shuttle, only to have the sparkling whimper and shrink away.

It nearly broke his spark to see Ironhide so worried.

Clearly, he was not alone.

"Try slowly," Megatron advised. "No sudden movements, and no loud noises."

"How would you know?" Hot Rod frowned.

Megatron groaned. "Don't even ask."

Ratchet hated himself for thinking it, but Ironhide probably couldn't help the shuttle. He wasn't the most subtle mech, and-

Ironhide sat down a couple of metres away from the sparkling, and wiggled his aft until he was comfortable. "I'm not moving until you do, Jetfire."

The sparkling blinked in confusion, but didn't budge.

Ratchet huffed suddenly. "Megatron, you've lost Starscream. He's abandoned you for the delights of a playhouse."

"I am far more delightful than a playhouse! I am Megatron! Besides," the Decepticon continued, "he couldn't abandon me. Only _I _ can abandon him-"

"Let me guess why."

Megatron blinked in surprise at being cut off Mid-Monologue. This didn't happen. "Ehhhh-eh... okay?"

"Is it because you are, in fact, Megatron?"

"_Lord_ Megatron, to yo- ...never mind."

"Wise idea, Megs." Ratchet narrowed his optics.

"The line is drawn firmly and utterly at Mega_tron_."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll-"

"PUT THAT SPARKLING DOWN!" Ratchet had espied Hot Rod holding a gently swinging Bumblebee by one leg. "**_RODIMUS_**!"

The young mech shot back into reality. "R-Ratchet!"

The medic clouted him roughly. "You fool! Are those with flames sparked with a lack of common sense?"

Optimus gurgled and rolled around on the floor, unable to move.

Megatron sat down. "He'll come back."

Optimus Prime wiggled some gangly arms at him.

"He will," Megatron persisted, obliviously. "He always does."

His sparklinged brother beeped angrily, then warbled as Megatron stared into space- or, more accurately, a wall.

With a _Hurr!_ of huge effort, Optimus rocked onto his front, then lay, splatted upon the ground.

Megatron eventually heard a tiny sigh, and looked down.

Optimus' tiny arms were straining to lift his comparatively solid body up, but he was failing miserably.

He collapsed into a bundle.

Megatron was about to pick him up when he remembered Optimus' sparklinghood. Past experience told him, very determinedly, **_no_**.

With a small 'grr', the Prime decided to simply roll into Megatron's leg.

When he crashed into it- after a squeak of surprise- he latched on and managed to pull himself up onto his brother's lap.

Satisfied, he blinked happily before settling down on his back. He looked up at Megatron, who tickled his stomach to a gurgling flailing of limbs.

Ironhide subconsciously revolved a cannon, then saw Jetfire glance at said weapon curiously.

He shifted some of the intricacies in the mechanism, and saw the mechling bite his wrist in concentration.

"You want to have a look?"

The sparkling hesitated, then squeaked, arms flopping.

"Ratchet? What is he doing?"

The medic glanced over. "...Oh, he's too big."

"Excuse me?"

"He can't _move_. He's too heavy to crawl anywhere; he can't support his weight. I'm guessing he wants you to go over to him."

"He moved before," Red Alert recalled.

"He dived in a state of _panic_, junior."

Ironhide shuffled forwards on his aft. Jetfire watched him curiously, antennae twitching nervously, but stayed put.

The black mech finally got within touching distance of the sparkling, and stopped. Best not to push it.

He held out an arm parallel to the mini-shuttle and slowly swivelled a cannon.

Jetfire's optics were fixed on the device. After a minute of observing the repetitive swivelling, he cautiously glanced up at Ironhide.

"You can touch it. I won't hurt you."

The mechling timidly reached towards him, at first nervously, arm shaking. Ironhide tried not to move as the sparkling touched the cannon fleetingly.

When Jetfire saw that the mech had not been riled, he reached out again, this time exploring the ridges and dips of the weapon, clever fingers dancing across the metal.

Hot Rod was about to burst out with an undoubtedly interesting comment when a high-pitched squealing burst out of one of the tunnels.

"Starscream?" Red Alert wondered.

"No," Megatron replied. "It's not him."

"How can you be sure?"

The Decepticon looked at the junior medic disbelievingly. "I know his squealings."

"I don't believe this," Ratchet sighed. "He actually did it."

Megatron turned his helm and saw Starscream sitting proudly at the mouth of a tunnel, human firmly held in his mouth. "Stay there, Starscream."

He stood- placing Optimus gently on the floor- crossed the room and held out a hand to the waiting sparkling, who jumped onto it and looked up at him.

"That's better. We don't want you diving onto the floor, do we? No."

Sam screamed. "OH, GOD! OH MAN!"

"Oh, _silence_, boy. Starscream just saved you from a fate of slow starvation."

Sam tried to wriggle away, but the Seeker growled and shook him. "HOLY- OH MAAAAAN!"

Ratchet's optics boggled. "He does realise that Sam isn't a chew-toy?"

"Is he not...?" Megatron shrugged. "_No_, Starscream. Drop him."

The sparkling shuffled unhappily.

"_Drop_ him."

Starscream lowered his helm to Megatron's hand, then slowly opened his mouth. Sam tumbled out with a squeak.

"Clever boy," the commander praised, and gave the Seeker's wings a stroke. "Well done."

The mechling squawked in surprise before cheeping, optics half-closed contentedly.

Sam tried to back away, but found there wasn't really anywhere to back away to, being about thirty-five foot in the air and all.

"I have a request," Megatron announced.

"You? A _request_?" Ratchet frowned.

"...Good point. Well, no matter how you respond, it's happening. I want to spend some time with the boy."

Sam laughed nervously. "As if that-"

Ratchet shrugged. "Okay."

The human's cheek spasmed. "Wha- Ratchet!"

"I don't see the problem. He's not allowed to kill you."

"No," Megatron agreed- all too quickly and enthusiastically for Sam's liking. "No, I won't."

"WHAT ABOUT RANDOM TORTURE?!"

Ironhide glanced over. "That was ruled out, too."

"No maiming," the Decepticon remembered sadly.

Sam plunged off of the alien's hand like a lemming over a cliff- although he had heard this was a myth. Like a puffin diving a suicidal distance into the sea. Like a boy who thought that impact upon the floor would be less painful than spending '_time'_ with Megatron.

"Fetch, Starscream."

Ratchet watched interestedly as the Seeker immediately dived after Sam and caught him before he hit the ground. "_You_ could have stopped the boy from jumping."

"Couldn't be bothered," Megatron sniffed. He tried to hide a tiny snigger as Starscream pounced on the human, then recalled that the fleshlings were, in fact, rather fragile. "Starscream! NO!"

The sparkling froze mid-growl and mid-bat of the teenager.

Sam winced at the shout.

Red Alert hurried over. "Sam, are you hurt?"

The human patted himself down. "...Don't-" Worriedly, he broke off, tentatively touched his hair, then exhaled in relief. "No, I'm all good."

"He was just playing with you, that's why," Ratchet explained. "Still, Megatron, perhaps you should wait until everything is back to normal before spending _time_ with Sam."

The Decepticon huffed. "Very well. I blame you, useless."

Starscream chirped sadly, wings drooping.

Ratchet did feel sorry for the Seeker, and bent down to his level as Megatron leant down to give Optimus a gentle nougie.

Hot Rod glanced around the room and wondered what in the name of all things Cube-shaped was going on.

Their commander was a sparkling. His hard-core, iconic brother was tickling his abdominal plating. _His_ second in command was busy- doing what, Hot Rod was unsure. Angsting? Ironhide- _Ironhide_- was letting a sparkling touch his cannons.

"Brilliant, huh?" Ironhide's soft rumble nearly made Hot Rod jump in shock, and he was about to comment abou-

Ratchet whacked him again. "Keep a hold of Bumblebee! No dropping!"

At least Ratchet was sane. Perhaps this was the wrong word- _normal_ might be more accurate word than sane.

Jetfire's wide optics blinked, antennae flicking backwards briefly.

"See that? That part there is where nuclear fusion occurs- then the energy is channelled along here-"

Ratchet sighed. "Trust Ironhide to teach a sparkling about cannons."

Jetfire's gaze flitted from the cannon to Ironhide.

"You want to hear more? ...I know- you want to hear about fusion, because you're a little scientist, aren't you?"

The sparkling chewed his lip in concentration as Starscream hopped over.

"You, too?" Ironhide smiled fondly at his cannons. "Educational. _Multipurpose_." There was definitely a sneaky glare at Ratchet. "And here is where the particles-"

Ratchet could have paled, if it were possible. "What about Prowl?"

Red Alert looked over. "Prowl?"

"I sincerely hope he's not sparklingified. The twins will have been let loose."

Hot Rod contacted the second because it made him feel important. _// Prowl? Speak to me!//_

He was answered by a gurgle.

"WE'VE LOST HIM! PROWL IS NO MORE!"

"The orn I take your word is the orn I will let Ironhide use me for target practice," Red Alert rolled his optics and tried Prowl himself. //_Sir? Are you alright?_//

//_...I'm full of success, Red Alert. Why?_//

//_Good to hear. Ratchet worried you might have been turned into a sparkling._//

//_No. I have not. Tell him the twins are **progressing**_.//

Red Alert did so.

"I knew he could do it- when people listen to me, things _happen_," Ratchet huffed cheerfully, then pouted at the ceiling. "...Jazz?"

There was a long silence.

"WE'VE LOST HIM-"

"Primus, Hot Rod!" Arcee snarled. "What would make you shut up?!"

"Jazz?"

"**_Remembered me, have you?_**" A quietly frosty tone.

Ratchet sighed. "Y-"

There was an ecstatic cheer. "**_I KNEW Y'CARED!_**"

"We've been over this. Can you see Prowl?"

There was a muffled _vvvwooosh_. "...**_Sure can_**."

"Well...?"

"**_He's having fun_**."

"-which then travels down into _this_ chamber. The nuclear fusion combines the nuclei- fusing them together- thus the name of the process. The energy-"

Megatron frowned. "Did you have a fusion cannon before me, or not? I can't remember."

Ironhide sniggered. "Now _that's_ a tale."

Ratchet glanced over sharply. "And it won't be told _now_."

"It wasn't _your_ fault!"

The medic's optics narrowed dangerously. "It is a complete embarrassment to our _faction_, Ironhide. And to _yourself_."

"But it can't be an embarrassment! Nobody knows!"

"And that's the way it _will _stay," Ratchet nearly hissed.

Starscream ferociously gnawed on his wrist as Jetfire sucked his hand vigorously; both sparklings were frowning at the cannon, drinking in every word from Ironhide's vocal processor.

The black mech caught sight of them. "Don't eat yourselves!"

The sucking and chewing processes were frozen immediately.

Megatron shook his helm resolutely. "No- you have fission! And for evidence other than my memory, it says so on Wikipedia! You have a fission cannon-"

"He changed it," Ratchet interrupted hastily.

"...Yes," Ironhide muttered, at a prompting glare from the CMO. "Fission would be ridiculous."

"Why?" Sam had recovered enough to ask. "It's an energy-"

"No, Sam." Ironhide sighed regretfully. "Just _no_."

"Why? My Physics lessons told me-"

"Physics tells you _nothing_," Ratchet pressed firmly.

"So explain it to me!" Sam ran over.

"...No. Jetfire will when he's back to normal; he's the scientist."

Megatron snorted commandingly. "No he won't. Starscream will."

"Jetfire!"

"Starscream!"

Ratchet knew this could go on for a long time and was about to interject when Sam blinked.

"Starscream is a scientist?"

"Yes." Megatron glared at him. "Got a problem...?"

"N-no..." Sam laughed nervously.

Ratchet hoped he would leave it there.

But no.

Sam charged awkwardly onwards. "Just didn't think Decepticons would _be_ scientists."

"We're not just savage killers!" Megatron declared indignantly. "We're _sentient _savage killers with a penchant for genocide!"

Like most would be when faced with such a comeback, Sam was completely disarmed. "T-that's good... good to know?"

"It is a lot of fun," the Decepticon agreed. "You humans like genocide too, don't you? We can have a right old _discussion_ about it."

"Oh me-? I don't go in for genocide... um, nor for discussions- or for fun! I just like to, um, do nothing, really."

"Nothing," Megatron repeated incredulously. "How can you like doing _nothing_? I'll teach you some skills... show you some _hobbies_, yeeeeeas, I will."

"What, like Twister? I hear you play Twister."

"Excuse me?"

"Twister. Jazz said you and Starscream play Twister."

Megatron glanced over Sam's head- it wasn't like this was hard- to lock optics with Ratchet.

Sam continued blindly. "It's a lot of fun! Maybe you just don't remember the name? It's the one where you spin the dial and then you have to bend and contort yourself around some coloured dots...?"

Megatron looked extremely alarmed and contacted the CMO. _//What on Cybertron is this?//_

//_A form of enrichment for humans. They find it enjoyable and amusing._//

//_Starscream and I do this?_//

//_Not to my knowledge._//

//_So it_ _is some kind of metaphor for something we actually do? Something the boy would not understand?/_/

Ratchet mouthed a positive response.

"...Yes, boy. This is very true."

"Great! I'll get Lennox, and we can set up a tournament!"

"**_You'll find him with Prowl and the twins,_**" Jazz helpfully chimed in.

"WOO!" Sam sprinted away- smack into the door.

The Cybertronians all cringed.

"Ooooh," Starscream winced, biting his lip. "Useless!"

Sam slowly picked himself up, and stared at the door (which, surprisingly, did nothing).

He waved his arms, wiggled his legs, jumped into the air.

The door did not open.

"Just stand there!" He span around to confront the (mostly) concerned (or amused) Transformers. "Let me suffer-! WILL _SOMEBODY_ OPEN THIS DOOR!?"

Bumblebee burbled, and flailed for the human, so Hot Rod sighed and decided to help him out.

He walked over to the door, which smoothly slid open, then looked down at the human. "You okay?"

"Fine, _fine_," Sam blundered, staggering out. "I just need to get some air away from genocidal Twister-playing robots and their useless babies-"

Starscream blinked, and had started to scurry after him when Megatron firmly placed a foot in his way.

Ratchet glowered at Hot Rod, and gestured.

"What?"

The CMO scowled ferociously and wiggled his fingers.

Hot Rod twiddled his own digits in confusion. "Ummm..?"

"GET AFTER HIM, YOU AFT!"

The young mech had begun to question this when he realised it was _Ratchet_. He hurried away.

Optimus clicked commandingly, and Megatron remembered that he was still on the floor.

As he picked his brother up, Optimus squealed happily, with a delighted wiggle.

"Small things, Optimus. They amuse small minds."

Ratchet sighed. It was time someone took control of the situation- or tried to, anyway. "Red Alert, try and revive Wheeljack. I may have been hasty, but I don't regret it."

The junior medic knelt down beside the unconscious engineer and stroked his chin.

"Arcee, you'll have to take a sparkling-"

"No, no." The femme shook her helm.

"You _have_ to. Megatron can't look after two-"

"Prowl supposedly is!"

"The twins _come_ as a pair," Ratchet sighed.

"Two?" Megatron narrowed his optics in sudden realisation. "Two?"

"Starscream and your _brother_. One would assume you would take guardianship of your own _sibling_. But you obviously can't keep an optic on both-"

"Who says I can't?"

"_I_ do." Ratchet stated decisively.

"I am Megatron! I contest your opinion!"

"I am Ratchet! I say... you can't!"

"Trial me." Megatron realised he wasn't going to win over Ratchet with just words. He was _hard_.

"You can't! Optimus is the Autobot _Commander_ and _Prime_, if you hadn't noticed. He can't be left in your sharp, dangerous hands!"

"...Why?"

Ratchet blinked at him. "The thought of killing him hadn't crossed your processor?"

"He's my brother," Megatron shrugged. "Don't be absurd."

Ironhide nearly choked in mid-spiel to the sparklings, who gazed at him in alarm.

"Give him here," Ratchet ordered.

"_No_-!" Megatron nearly cried, holding Optimus tightly. "You shan't have him!"

"I'm not going to hurt him, you _idiot_. Hand him over."

"But-" The Decepticon frantically looked down at the sparkling, who had begun to look worried.

"It's not like you'll never see him again. He's just going to be in _our_ care, not yours."

"But why?!"

"Call yourself a responsible brother?"

Megatron thought for a while, emotions on his faceplates shifting rapidly. "...Maybe not, but back in the orn, I was-!"

"Then you turned all evil," Ironhide helpfully reminded.

"Don't blame me. Blame the Fallen. ...Don't make me say the P-L-E-A-S-E word!"

Ratchet was taken aback by the plea, but pulled himself together. "No. Look how mean you are to Starscream."

"That's _different_! Optimus is my... my equal!"

Ironhide was definitely choking now.

Arcee quietly sneaked out as Red Alert hurried over to the black mech and offered some advice.

The CMO firmly raised an optic ridge. "I can't guarantee his safety! And as one of his _official _guardians, the responsibility falls to me. Hand Prime over."

"Or I blow off his helm," Ironhide cheerfully added, pointing at Starscream.

"Nono," the Seeker whimpered.

"I didn't think you would have understood that! I didn't mean it!"

"No! _Useless_! _Useless_!" Starscream shrieked, curling into a small ball.

Ironhide visibly winced.

Megatron's deep sigh was almost tangible as he gave Optimus a squeeze.

The sparkling squeaked, optics wide.

"Sorry, Optimus. I truly am." The Decepticon gave the red and blue mechling a brief nuzzle before handing him over-

Prime blinked, whimpered, and clung to him.

Ratchet huffed. "This is a performance."

"Optimus, let go," Megatron implored. "I have things I must do."

The sparkling shook his helm wildly and reached for his sibling's face with wavering beeps.

Ratchet let him.

Optimus frowned in concentration as he slowly traced Megatron's face, tiny fingers stroking his brother's cheekplates, then falteringly- though determinedly- spoke through his tiny facemask. "...Mm...M-Meg-sy."

"He's my little _brother._" Megatron, lowering his helm, closed his optics briefly.

Optimus wriggled upwards with a whimper and gently pressed his forehelm against Megatron's.

They were still for a while, just _being_ together.

...Until a certain luminous mech could not contain himself.

"I'M TOO SOFT!" Ratchet whirled around to Ironhide, stamping. "I'M MELTING LIKE A _FANGIRL_!"

The black mech wasn't looking. "I can't watch."

"Would you cry, _Ironhide_?"

"No!"

Ratchet drew in a huge amount of oxygen, and let it all be ventilated before he turned around. "Right. You have your trial. But it won't be for long, you hear me?"

"I do, Ratchet."

"Dismissed."

Megatron even gave the CMO a smile- fanged, true, but a smile nonetheless- before shouting inappropriately. "STARSCREAM! WE'RE OFF!"

There was no response.

Megatron rolled his optics. "USELESS!"

The Seeker peeked shakily up out of his ball.

"MOVE YOURSELF!"

With a twitter, Starscream scurried to his side after a glance back at Jetfire, who had shrunk back behind Ironhide's formidable bulk.

"Subordinates!" The commander shook his helm. "All pathetic, aren't they, Optimus?"

Prime blinked at him.

"Now might be the time to iron out that idiotic belief you carry about 'freedom'." Megatron saw Ratchet's face and thought better of it. "Or maybe not. But what about equality? Not all races are of equal standing and-"

He strode out quickly, challenging Optimus about Autobot ideals.

Starscream chirped and followed, hurrying as best he could on all fours to keep up with Megatron's huge steps.

Ironhide noticed Jetfire cowering beside him. "Was it that silly gigantic beast shouting? Come here..."

The sparkling buried his helm into the mech's leg with a tiny sob.

With a grunt, Ironhide lifted him and stood with a whistle. "You are a chunky fellow."

"Reminds me of someone else," Ratchet sniggered.

"Don't call me chunky."

"I didn't."

"Now you're messing with my processor!"

"It isn't _hard_."

Red Alert sighed. "Sir, Wheeljack is truly out of it, as they say. He needs the medbay."

"Stop rhyming."

"**_It was a h_****_alf-rhyme_**," Jazz sighed. "**_Rhythm of the spoken voice almost drowned it out._**"

"Jazz, what are you doing?"

"**_Sudoku. Why_**?"

"No...! What are you hoping to achieve?"

"**_I'm staying out of the way_**," the saboteur sniffed. "**_Megatron's arrival made me think_**."

"About if you can afford a funeral?"

There was a dignified sniff. "**_None of you lot appreciate me. I am staying here."_**

"Forever?"

"**_You wish_**."

"Certainly do," Ratchet wistfully sighed. "Red Alert, let's move. Ironhide, do me a favour and check on Prowl, would you?"

The two medics balanced Wheeljack between them- i.e., Ratchet sneered at the engineer whilst Red Alert supported him- and left.

Ironhide stood, looking at the door. "Well, bye, then."

Jetfire blinked at the newfound distance to the floor and glanced up at Ironhide.

"Well, looks like we've got a Prowl to find," the mech announced.

* * *

It wasn't too hard to find the second, in the end.

He was in an unused room near the human sector. Sunny and Sides were seated upon a large counter, and he was standing before them.

Ironhide peered around the door as Prowl pointed at a car he had commandeered from somewhere. "See this? This is a tyre. When black marks are left by tyres, you've been driving too fast."

The twins were listening intently.

"...Good. Now, boys; show me where your chassis are."

Both pointed to the correct part of their anatomy.

"Well done. Your optics?"

Sunny enthusiastically poked himself in the optic, then started flailing in pain.

Prowl quickly went to them. "Wait, Sunstreaker. We're not done. Where are your sparks?"

The twins smiled widely and pointed at both their own and their brother's chassis.

"Brilliant."

Ironhide blinked. That was unexpected.

Sunny frowned and thrust a finger at Prowl's back.

"What? Oh! Those, dear twins, are my doorwings. And no, they are not to be played with. It hurts. Now, where is my chevron?"

There was a squeal as Sideswipe pointed and clapped.

"Indeed, my chevron is located there. Clever boy. That's enough for today; let's go and see if you can play with Bumblebee or Starscream, shall we?"

"Or Jetfire," Ironhide added.

The second hummed. "Jetfire, too?"

Ironhide wasn't really surprised that Prowl wasn't surprised that he was there. Prowl was hard to surprise; only the twins had mastered the act, and even they only managed it rarely.

"Or maybe not," the black mech scowled. "They are a little too friendly."

Sunny and Sides loudly squeaked and beeped as they attempted to jump at the safely out of reach Jetfire.

"Shy, is he?" Prowl asked.

"You could say that. ...I thought Lennox was in here with you."

"He was, until Sam came twitching in. Lennox took him away for some 'unwinding time'."

**_"I wish I could have some unwinding time," _**A familiar voice sighed. "**_But no one appreciates me enough to think that I actually need to unwind._**"

**_"_**Come on, Jazz,**_" _**Prowl sighed, "stop being such a sparkling. Get out of your sulky-corner."

**_"...Can I play with the sparklings?"_**

"Of course you can. Now get down here."

"**_Do you miss me?_**"

"More than you know," Prowl replied. "Your attitude, for one thing, is sorely missed."

"**_And Ironhide?_**"

The Weapons Specialist huffed. "...Who else makes inappropriate comments that are actually worth listening to?"

They could feel the smile radiating throughout the base.

**_"Fear no catawampus! I'm coming home, lovers!"_**

"Lovers?"

"He's Jazz. Do you expect something ordinary?"

Ironhide wondered how he could have even thought about Jazz saying something normal.

Truly the saboteur had been gone too long.

* * *

Starscream sat silently by the door, twiddling his tiny thumbs.

Megatron had forbidden him to make noises, as Optimus was recharging and "little Primes needed their rest."

He quietly scampered to the opposite wall, climbed up onto the large windowsill and looked out at the sky.

The Seeker pressed his hands against the glass and peered out more intently.

A circle of condensation suddenly appeared on the window. With a squeak, he leapt back- then guiltily turned around to see Megatron glaring.

Starscream watched as the circle started to decrease in size, slowly vanishing from existence.

"Didn't I say quiet?! I can hear you _living_!"

The sparkling twittered softly and flopped down on the sill with a sigh.

Megatron patted the desk with a sigh. "Get your worthless aft over here."

Starscream darted across the room and scurried onto the furniture, where he curled up, tweeting gently.

The commander sighed at him. "No recharge for _you_. We're going to have a lesson."

Starscream frowned.

"A _lesson_. I will try and teach you something that you should undoubtedly know already. I share my great knowledge with you benevolently. Remember that."

With a blink, the Seeker remained confused.

"Gaaah. You'll catch on. You're not stupid, just slow. Right. Why don't we do something that you'll find easy." Megatron thought for a while. "Let's start with the basics; being a Seeker. You're one of those."

Starscream nodded.

"Good. Seekers seek, don't they?"

Another nod.

"Do you know what they seek?"

"Stham."

"No- not this infernal problem again!" Megatron tried to progress, pushing the pathetic pronunciation aside for the time being. "Seekers do not seek the boy _alone_. Only _you_ have, so far, because I told you to."

Starscream snapped his fangs softly.

"Yes, those little teeth helped."

The Seeker edged closer and pawed him.

"What?"

The sparkling pouted thoughtfully before replying. "...Stham useless?"

"Oh, Primus- watch my mouth move." Megatron waited for Starscream, who nodded, frowning slightly in concentration. "Right, ready? ...STHAAAM."

Starscream gave him an odd look.

"Well, say it!"

"...Stham?"

Megatron huffed angrily. "Did I say it like that? No!" He paused, then twitched. "You little _frag. _You made me say it wrongly! You're going to PAY!"

With a growl, he grabbed the Seeker and hurled him out of the window.

Well, _towards_ the window. Starscream bounced off of the tough material before smacking into the ground, wincing. He stayed on the floor, but his optics flicked up to an unimpressed Megatron.

"GET OUT OF THE SLAGGING WINDOW, YOU GLITCH!"

Starscream scrambled unsteadily to his feet before climbing onto the sill and hurriedly patting the window to find some way to open it. There wasn't one.

Megatron seethed for a minute, then resolved the situation appropriately.

**THABOOOOOM.**

The window literally exploded in front of Starscream, who whimpered, diving to the floor.

Subspacing his cannon, the adult mech stood and swiftly booted the Seeker out of the smoking hole. He rolled and cracked his neck with a sigh. "...That felt _good_."

He returned to his seat, and checked on Optimus.

The Prime was still recharging. Amazing.

Megatron watched him quietly for a minute, then covered his brother with a blanket. His lips twitched as Optimus' tiny fingers curled around the material.

After stroking the sparkling's antennae fondly, Megatron busied himself doing nothing.

He was good at this.

Out of the corner of his vision, he could see red optics peer over the window ledge into the room. There was a long silence. "...Staam?"

Well, it was a development.

Starscream pulled himself into the building and scurried over. "...Staam?"

The silver mech did not reply. The Seeker clawed at his leg softly.

"...No. I'm not looking at you. When you were older, you made much more satisfying noises when I beat you."

The sparkling whined, then thought, wrist disappearing into his mouth. He glanced up, clearly hopeful. "Ow?"

"I'll give you _ow_ if you keep sucking."

There was a guilty pause.

"I _know_ you can say it, Starscream." Megatron felt his leg be clawed again. "No! You can say it as adult-you! I see no reason why you can't say it now."

He looked down and saw the sparkling's face crumple. "Don't give me that look."

"...B-buut-"

"No!" Megatron snarled, then frowned. "Did you just say 'but'?"

Starscream flinched. "N-no?"

"It truly is fitting that you learn the words 'useless', 'but', and 'no'. The only words you ever use _anyway _when you grovel around pointlessly for clemency."

"Staam?"

"Not a _word_!"

"Ow?"

"It's a sound."

Starscream sighed. "Oh."

Megatron rolled his optics, then proceeded to pretend that he was ignoring the Seeker.

He was good at this, too.

The sparkling inclined his helm thoughtfully, clicked softly to himself, then curled up by Megatron's foot.

Megatron waited until Starscream was definitely recharging before gently picking him up and placing him beside Optimus.

Wouldn't want the glitch to think he was special, after all.

* * *

**Deleted Scene: ****:3**

Hot Rod was about to burst out with an undoubtedly interesting comment when a high-pitched squealing burst out of one of the tunnels.

"Starscream?" Red Alert wondered.

"No," Megatron replied. "It's not him."

"How can you be sure?"

The Decepticon looked at the junior medic disbelievingly. "I know his squealings."

"I don't believe this," Ratchet sighed. "He actually did it."

Megatron turned his helm and saw Starscream sitting proudly at the mouth of a tunnel, human firmly held in his mouth. "Stay ther-"

Sam shrieked.

Megatron twitched but, to his credit, tried again. "St-"

Sam howled, thrashing wildly.

Megatron glanced up to the ceiling and opened his mouth to comment, then shook his helm and closed it. _"...This_ is why they annoy me. _One_ of the reasons._"_

Starscream attempted to yap around his mouthful of fleshling.

Ratchet gestured. "You can't just leave a sparkling in mid-take, Megatron. He's expecting you to go over to him."

"Can't do it-!" the Decepticon ranted, stalking around the room. "I won't work with them."

Starscream barked in a muffled manner, and pawed at the edge of the tunnel, shifting his weight.

Megatron saw this too late. "N-"

The Seeker dropped calmly- until Sam screamed in terror, at which point he splatted into the floor.

"Not _again_- how many times! No _jumping_!" The commander stormed over and roughly lifted him.

Starscream chirped quietly as he was dangled in the air.

Prowl left his camera. "Right. We can safely say that's the end of that take."

Megatron was too busy shouting at Starscream to care.

"Was this such a good idea, Prowl?" Ironhide questioned. "Turning half the cast into sparklings?"

"The orders came from higher up," Red Alert reminded. "We have no choice."

"I didn't realise it would be such a pain, though," the black mech scowled. "I thought they'd still be _sane_."

"Thank Primus this hasn't happened in real life," Ratchet nearly crossed himself. "We'd be doomed if our fates were left up to Wheeljack."

"And _you!"_ Megatron turned to Sam- well, hefted Starscream so he could glare more efficiently. "What were you playing at! Shrieking in such a fashion!"

"Never work with children or pets," Sam whimpered.

Ironhide sighed. "You only went and scared Jetfire, too."

"And how are we supposed to get Optimus out of the Warehouse?" Ratchet snarled. "That's where he's _gone_."

Sam winced. "It's just kind of scary when you're being bitten by a baby _robot_ and all... and-"

"Enough of you, boy." Megatron clicked at Starscream and lowered him to the floor. The Seeker hurriedly scampered back to the Warehouse, and scurried up a side of the structure to place Sam in a tunnel. "Optimus went _that _way. I suggest you find him quickly. Or I shall be _most_ displeased."

Sam twitched, then howled as he ran, the sound screeching down the tunnel . "OPTTIIIIIII_MUUUUUUS_!"

Hot Rod realised something. "Hey, Prowl. Where did you put Sunny and Sides?"

"Hm? Oh, they're in that cage."

"A _cage?!_"

Prowl just gave him a Look. It said it all, really.

"Would you want to look after them?" Ratchet asked. "_I_ support you, Prowl."

"It's not a small cage," Prowl justified quickly. "It's spacious, and comfortable. It has cushions, and a little sparkling-monitor so I can hear them, and-"

"...Do you reckon they'll get their own back?" Hot Rod mused. "I mean, some of you lot haven't been sparklings. Just wondering if you'll be turned into-"

Ratchet hit him. "No one would _dare_ turn me into a sparkling."

Megatron sneered. "I'm glad I never was one."

They chose to ignore this comment as Ironhide managed to get a firm hold of an unhappy, burbling Jetfire.

**_"Never a sparkling, Megsy? That's really something. Does that explain your unmoved mental capacity?"_**

"Jazz, why?" Ironhide pondered as the Decepticon's optics closed in an attempt to control himself. "Why do you bring these things on yourself? I wouldn't mind being a sparkling. It's not a hard life."

"Except everyone seeing you _bumble_ around cutely. Or don't you mind that, _Autobot_?"

Ironhide glared at Megatron. "Point made, _Decepticon_."

Prowl clapped his hands. "Right... here's the script for the next section. Prepare for calamity."

There was instantly _fear_ in that room.

* * *

Another chapter; gone! Time flies when you're having fun. Or, in my case, slaving over a keyboard.

Primus, are they _still_ sparklings? Honestly. It won't last much longer, I fear. ;D

Kibble's Weekly Advice:

...I am abusing this A/N space to promote a show.

If any of you lot ever see a BBC adaptation of Merlin on telly, you should watch it. I _think_ it at least shows in America on NBC, if not other places.

It makes me melt and cheer and flail. :3

And go watch that Youtube video! Shoo! xD

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! :D


	18. Chapter 18

Good evening, readers!

:D

Hope you've all had a good week and all.

Rather quick update, eh? :D Well, it's shorter, but hey-ho. Life will go on.

**Captain Arianna Trouble****, ****Marinelife37****, ****Kittisbat****, ****Clumsy Peg****, ****laureas****, ****BlackAerin****, ****-Zanzizarr-****, ****AuthorSquared****, ****9aza****, ****Lioness09Wolf****, ****Victoria-BlackHeart****, ****Grumpy Old Diamond****, ****JuJill**, and **Heir to the World**, you make my life complete. :'3

As most of you do each update. :'} ...I may sniffle quietly with love.

**Notices! :D**

1) ...I have a new-found respect for Starscream. I officially have a little toy of him now, and I feel so sorry for him.

He finds it very hard to stand up, although he's learning.

Therefore, I completely commend Starscream for showing such mastery of _standing_ in ROTF- not to mention _**walking**_, _**running**, _and _**landing**._

Incredible stuff.

2) ...And I made up a word for this chapter. _Snoozling_. Just thought I'd let you know I can spell, and know that it is not, in fact, a real word. :(

3) Ah, yes. Next on my LIST of things to mention.

All of you lot on my **Author Alerts **list (you LOVELY people) have a new fic that you need to read. _Why haven't we been alerted to it_-! I hear you cry.

Well, dear readers, it is because it is a collaboration, and has found a comfortable home on the Awesome page of** Clumsy Peg**.

I shall now **shamelessly ****use the tool of se****lf**-**promotion **to tell you that you should have a look. It is (apparently) rather epic.

Please do go have a rummage; it isn't very long, so it won't take up much of your fun-filled lives. It is entitled **Transformers: The Hunt for Prime**.

I can _feel _your interest.

4)... For some reason, I have the reminder 'Spiderman'. I don't know what I was going to say about Spiderman. (thinks deeply) ...Oh yes! I do! The second line of the fic is blatantly using the Spiderman LINE of glory.

**Note: **I also went a little bit mad. **Clumsy Peg** can also be blamed for this, as she sent me into a flailing flail fest after an amazing scene she sent me earlier.

...I went to her profile, STOLE her fic names, and incorporated them **all** into this chapter.

Heh. If anyone spots them hiding amongst casual dialogue, etc, say so. ;D

* * *

Megatron opened his optics suspiciously. There was something amiss: his senses were tingling.

The Decepticon stood, glancing about the room. There didn't seem to be any imminent danger. Something was impending, though. Some kind of _something_.

He relaxed slightly, but decided he would check the corridors.

From his position beside a snoozling Optimus, Starscream's left optic snapped open and he uncurled from his ball with a questioning squeak.

"Stay _there_," Megatron ordered.

The Seeker flapped his wings vigorously and flexed his talons.

"Don't move," the mech repeated. "R-"

Starscream had frozen mid-stretch, balancing only on three sharp claws. One optic blinked at him.

"No, you can _move_, just- _stay_." Megatron pointed authoritatively. "I'm going to look at something."

The sparkling dived off of the berth and scurried hopefully towards him.

"No. You aren't coming."

A response came in the form of a mournful whimper.

"Stay _there_. Be a big, brave Seeker."

Starscream whined and pawed at his foot.

"No, no, no." Megaton lifted the mechling and sat him on the desk firmly. "Stay. No following."

Starscream's wings drooped and he hung his helm sadly.

"Watch Optimus for me." The commander noticed that the Seeker's wings pricked slightly. "Can you do that?"

He would further consult the Seeker handbook later, but it seemed its advice had done the trick for now. There was a handy question and answer section at the back where troubled owners had shared their horrors.

_Q) My Seeker won't leave me alone! He follows me EVERYWHERE and SNEAKS up on me if I tell him to stay somewhere! I try and shut him in a room and he WAILS and SCRATCHES until I return! THIS **SUCKS**!_

_A) The Seeker may become very attached to you and refuse to leave your side. Being extremely unstable creatures at such a young age, psychologists have conducted experiments and studied such behaviours that lead them to believe Seeker sparklings may think you will abandon them if they are not with you. If you do not wish him to accompany you, it is best to leave him with something to do, at least for the first few times. This way, he will be distracted from his loneliness._

"It is important," Megatron continued. "You have to make sure he's safe and happy."

Starscream glanced at the recharging Prime, chirped softly, and crawled closer to the Autobot.

With a tiny huff, he sat.

Megatron narrowed his optics and clicked.

Whining, Starscream lay down, double jointed legs tucked neatly underneath him, and helm resting on hands, looking for all the worlds like a rejected puppy, complete with dejected look.

"Heheh," Megatron giggled. "Puppies. Soft, fleshy creatures. Not as interesting as the boy, though."

Starscream's optics seemed to expand beseechingly.

"I truly cannot wait until I can properly beat you up again," Megatron sighed wistfully, claws twitching longingly. "I shall have such fun."

The Seeker watched the Decepticon leave. Then, with a short chirrup, he slowly pushed himself up and went to sit on the berth by Optimus.

* * *

Megatron frowned. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. How odd.

Striding down a corridor, he smacked straight into Ratchet.

For all those ignorant of Ratchet, this is never a wise course of action.

The Autobot snarled. "You fool!"

Megatron bristled indignantly. "I was about to say that!"

"Well... ha!"

"Go and fiddle with someone," the Decepticon sniffed. "That's your job, isn't it?"

"Oh, jealous?" Admirably, Ratchet kept his cool.

Megatron knew he was walking right into something, but he was curious. "Why would I be jealous?"

"Well, I guess with Starscream not_ himself_-" Ironhide appeared, toting a large sparkling- assumedly that _Jetfire_.

"He must be missing someone to fiddle with," Ratchet concluded, swiftly holding up a hand.

Megatron twitched. If they wanted a fight, they would-

To his amazement, Ironhide hurled Jetfire into the air, high-fived the other Autobot, then caught the sparking in plenty of time.

The shuttle howled in misery.

"Oh, Jet."

"_Idiotic_ Ironhide. ...That's a point," Ratchet continued. "Where is your shadow?"

"On the floor, where it usually is," Megatron scowled.

Ironhide glanced at a still startled Jetfire- whose sobs had quietened but was now looking more nervous- and decided not to goad the Decepticon further for fear of scaring the mechling.

Ratchet had no such qualms.

A luminous finger jabbed forth. "I swear that you weren't always this stupid. Or do you just pretend to be? You really can't be _that_ stupid. ...I meant your Seeker-shaped shadow."

Megatron was confused. Angrily so. "Why would I have more than one shadow? And why would it be 'Seeker-shaped'? I am no Seeker! I am **_MEGATRON_**!"

(The last word was nearly roared. Dramatic effect and all.)

Jetfire whimpered and clung to Ironhide, trying to hide his helm under the mech's arm.

"You know. What's he called? _Useless_? Well, he certainly _is_. So useless he's obviously lost yo-"

"Ratchet," Ironhide hissed, "Stop it!"

"Why?" The medic frowned, then turned to see the shaking sparkling.

By the time he looked back, Megatron's optics had hardened into a fiery stare, and he _exuded_ Evil. It seemed to radiate from him in varying waves of rage and other such angry essences. "Finish your sentence, Autobot."

"No, I'm do-"

Thunder conveniently boomed right outside, and storm clouds rumbled just outside the nearest window.

Ratchet could have sworn he could see blue sky shining just beyond the base's perimeter.

Megatron's voice was a scarily controlled hiss. "I believe you were commenting on my Second in Command."

Jetfire cringed. Ironhide stroked his antennae comfortingly. Ratchet should be able to handle this. He was Ratchet, after all.

"Maybe I was," Ratchet retorted. "Or maybe I was just r-"

Frenzied yapping erupted from down the corridor.

Megatron's helm whipped round.

"Is _that_ Starscream!? Do you mind him _not_ screeching the whole base awake?"

"Did you lock him in your room or something?" Ironhide wondered.

"I didn't _lock_ him in," Megatron muttered. "There'd be no point."

"Why not?"

"Because he'd find some way to get _out_."

"So what _did_ you do?"

"I told him to stay."

"Perhaps he has cut himself," Ironhide suggested. "Perhaps he is ventilating his last as he bleeds to death-="

"**_Thank you_**," Megatron snarled. "But that _isn't_ one of his pained noises."

"How the Pit do you know-?"

"I just _do_." Megatron listened intently.

The yappings evolved into enraged screeches.

"...He's not very happy," Ironhide evaluated. "Perhaps you should go see what is wrong."

Ferocious barking and a snarl preceded a cry of pain.

"OUUUUCH!"

"Now _that_ was Jazz," Ratchet snickered. "I know _his_ pain."

Ironhide blinked as Megatron strode past-

The CMO huffed. "Why must he _stride_?!"

"It's a form of movement. I don't see the problem."

"He could walk. He could stroll, amble, totter, or trot. He could jaunt, charge, or even bounce-! But no. He must _stride_."

"It's DIGNIFIED," the striding Decepticon revealed in a shout as he strode onwards. "Besides, I am tall. I feel the need to stride on my long legs. You lot must ponce around on your stubby limbs, but I must convey authority. I must stride."

Ratchet sneered, but followed, Ironhide in his wrathful wake.

Megatron's striding had left him standing by his room, and he entered.

Hysterical, shrill yapping assaulted their audio receptors.

Jetfire wriggled more deeply under Ironhide's arm and refused to come out.

Megatron glanced around, scowling at the sound. "Starscream!"

Then he saw the Seeker, bristling and snarling at Jazz, who was nursing his hand.

"He gnawed me-!" Jazz whined, flinging himself at Ratchet, who had no sympathy.

Megatron sighed as the Seeker screeched at the fleeing saboteur, wings flaring. "Stop that."

Starscream hissed wildly, baring his fangs.

Megatron Looked at him. Sometimes looks said more than words- especially if they were Looks.

A quickly subdued Seeker whined, dropped to the ground, and hid under the berth.

The Decepticon rolled his optics, then turned to Jazz. "Serves you right."

"I didn't do anything! I only came in because..."

"Because?"

"I...um..."

"Lying will do you no good." Ratchet firmly grabbed his wrist.

"I wanted to see mini-Boss Bot!" Jazz shrieked. "Pleaseletgo-"

"Ohhhh," Megatron sighed. "_That's_ why he bit you."

Ironhide was confused. "Isn't it just because he's a little savage?"

"_No_," the commander scowled. "It is because I told him to watch Optimus. He must have considered the runt here a threat. Primus knows why."

"But I'm _Jazz_!"

"He doesn't know what a threat _is,_" Ratchet announced threateningly. "Runts apparently don't have good memories."

"I do! I do!" Jazz winced, trying to pry off the medic's firm grip.

Ironhide tried to jiggle Jetfire out of his chosen hidey-hole. "Jeeeeeeehhtfiiiiiiiire-!"

The sparkling sniffled.

Ironhide carefully sat him on the berth next to Optimus, who was _still_ asleep.

"Be grateful," Ratchet announced. "Sparkling Optimus awake is a bad thing." Then thinking, the medic amended himself. "_Optimus_ awake is a bad thing."

"He is not that bad," Megatron frowned.

"Not for _you_, for some reason." Ironhide disagreed.

Jazz changed tactics and clung to Ratchet like a piece of raspberry bubble gum clings to the most random of objects.

Ratchet, naturally, was disgusted.

"I'm BLEEEEDING," Jazz wailed.

"Get off-!" Ratchet succeeded in shoving Jazz to the floor where he sat unhappily.

"BLEEEEEEEEDIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!" The saboteur wafted the wounded appendage dramatically, dripping energon all over the floor.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"...You are a medic!"

"Sometimes I wonder why." Ratchet, oddly, felt- not sorry- but dissatisfied. He sighed. "Hand."

Jazz's antennae pricked and the hand was proffered eagerly.

The CMO inspected it. "Medbay."

"Why? Am I DYING?"

"Now."

"Your monosyllabic sentences KILL ME," Jazz howled. "LITERALLY! AM I DYIIIIING?"

Ironhide rubbed his forehelm wearily as Ratchet steamed past, dragging the saboteur with him.

Jetfire burbled and snuggled up to Optimus, who yawned widely, arms stretching up into the air before flopping back to his sides.

Ratchet's bellow echoed back. "IRON_HIDE_! Get over here!"

Jazz could be heard clawing at the walls and wailing. "I don't wanna die! If I don't go t'the medbay, I WON'T _DIE_!"

"You _fool! _You won't die _anyway_!"

"I'll suffer your wrath!"

"You'll suffer it now- **IRONHIDE**!"

The black mech sighed. "Back in a minute. Stay there, Jetfire. Won't be long." Ironhide pointed authoritatively. "**Stay**."

The shuttle looked up, optics filling with lubricant.

Too bad Ironhide had already left.

Megatron snarled. "Don't _cry_."

Jetfire whimpered and shuffled backwards.

"Don't do it; I'm warning you."

There was a quiet sniffle as Jetfire froze, then whimpered quietly.

Optimus nearly sat up- wiggling his arms frantically in an attempt to balance- then fell back again with an _oof_.

Megatron sighed as his brother heaved himself up and gave a tiny roar, ending in a surprised squeak as he yawned. Optimus blinked at seeing Jetfire, then poked him commandingly.

"Stay _there_ until your Autobot comes back. No whinging."

The shuttle scuttled behind Optimus and attempted to hide.

With a scowl, Megatron glared more intensely, then moved his gaze elsewhere. "STARSCREAM!"

There was an almost inaudible shuffle and whimper, but no Seeker.

"Get out here, _useless_!"

"N-no," a tiny voice replied.

"Why the _frag_ not?"

"Ows..."

"Ows? What is that supposed to mean?"

There was a long pause. "...M-master _ow_ bad useless."

Megatron formed a response carefully. "I won't hurt you. Come out."

"Noooo-!"

"Get here _now_ or suffer."

Looking down, Megatron saw a pair of red optics slowly emerge from the darkness underneath the berth.

Wings laid flat across his back, Starscream skulked towards him to cower by his foot.

The mech let him tremble for a minute. "What makes you think you did something wrong?"

The Seeker twittered miserably, unable to form a response.

Megatron waited as Optimus rolled over and over on the berth with a _wheeeee_. Jetfire, rather alarmed, was watching, and reaching out occasionally to try and stop Optimus from rolling over the edge.

"M-master _go_," Starscream finally stuttered. "Useless bad, m-master go."

"You're an _idiot_."

The sparkling cringed.

"...You did what I asked of you. Which _is _a change," Megatron mused. "Maybe you _are_ learning."

Starscream chirped quietly in confusion.

Megatron bent down and softly scratched his wings. The Seeker looked even more bewildered.

"Clever Starscream."

If there was ever a walking/flying/transforming advertisement for puzzlement, it was Starscream that astro-second.

"...Bad useless?"

"No. Good Starscream."

"Stwarscweam?"

Megatron winced, but ignored the feeble pronunciation. "That's your name."

"Useless...?"

"No. Starscream."

"No useless?" The Seeker sounded a little disappointed.

"You'll _always_ be useless."

The sparkling thought. "...Useless Stwarscweam?"

"Now _that_ is more like it."

Starscream purred, wings flicking contentedly under Megatron's attentions. Tweeting, he rubbed his helm on the mech's foot happily.

"You truly are easily pleased."

Starscream really didn't care. It was hard enough to get affection; he was determined to savour it whilst it lasted.

* * *

"Look, twins." Prowl pointed down the corridor.

Sunny and Sides peered around his legs.

"Do you see Ironhide, Ratchet, and Jazz?"

Sunny burbled.

"What are they doing?"

Sides whistled uncertainly.

"No, I wasn't asking. I was actually wondering."

The mech watched as Ironhide attempted to unfasten Jazz's death-grip from the edge of the wall, and Ratchet heaved at the saboteur's torso.

"You know what we should be? We should be afraid," Prowl sternly declared, then bent down to their level. "Never anger Ratchet. Ratchet has a lot of power, and he _will _use it."

Sideswipe put his hands on Prowl's upper leg armour and beeped. Sunny pointed at the second and squeaked firmly with a nod.

"Me? I don't have power like Ratchet."

The twins shook their helms resolutely and climbed onto him.

With a sigh, Prowl stood, two sparkling shaped supplements attached to him.

Sunny pulled himself up onto Prowl's shoulder and attempted to bite his audio processor.

"No, Sunstreaker. That hurts."

The golden sparkling sighed and aimed for the chevron, nibbling one of the points.

"Still hurts."

Huffing with the unfairness of life, Sunny slid down into a waiting arm.

Prowl made his way down the corridor, cautiously watching the odd display before him.

Ratchet snarled, and looked in the opposite direction. "If someone walks by- they _will_-"

Prowl dived quickly into a room before he was spotted. Sunny and Sides gasped.

...There was something in here already. Prowl whipped around, coming face to not-quite-face with Megatron, who was half-kneeling on the floor.

It was alarming that even when crouched down, Megatron wasn't much shorter than the Autobot.

"...What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same question," Megatron scowled, flicking Starscream, who growled and tried to nibble him.

"I was avoiding Ratchet."

"Wise of you."

"Hm." Prowl saw a red and blue sparkling busy glomping a larger one. "Is that _Prime_?"

"Yeeeaaaas," Megatron replied.

Prowl twitched.

"You could put your...er, twins down," the Decepticon offered politely, seeing Sunny and Sides fidget incessantly.

"Are you insane?" The second paused as the twins gurgled. "They _are_. They're only partly-normal when I'm in close proximity."

"I'm sure." Megatron shrugged. "It's not like we can't stop anything. What could go wrong?"

This is always a stupid thing to say, readers.

It tops the list of the most idiotic phrases ever to be invented.

You know why.

As Prowl gingerly placed the Corvettes on the berth, Optimus stopped in his Jetfire-glomping to look at them.

"Good! Quickly, Ironhide! Pull!"

Megatron scooped Optimus up as a sudden shriek blasted from down the corridor.

"HOT ROD!" Ratchet's calm, gentle bellow soon followed. "YOU WORTHLESS-"

Jazz wailed. "Thank you, Roddy!"

A purring engine growled into life and rocketed away.

"You _prat_!" the CMO hissed.

Ironhide sighed. "Good one, Hot Rod."

"Why, it's my pleasu- OW!"

"What's going on?" Megatron asked Prowl.

"Talk _quietly_, why don't you," the second hissed. "They'll hear!"

"I can't- I am **Megatron**! Quietness is not applicable! 'Whispering' is for weak, pathetic, useless MINIONS!"

Ratchet could be _heard_ scowling. "Is Megatron talking to himself?"

"To Starscream, maybe," Ironhide replied.

Prowl glared at Megatron. "Surely you can speak malevolently."

"Yeaaas."

"So just lower your voice when you do so- _easy_."

"I see no reason why I should."

The Autobot barely paused for thought in his Awesomeness. "I have a reason."

"Oh, do you." Megatron sneered, then pouted curiously. "What?"

"You do realise that sometimes, subtlety can be even _more_ evil?"

"What do you mean?"

"Speaking in low, _dangerous_ tones only heightens threat." As he spoke, Prowl flattened himself against the wall, then peeked round the door. "Damn. Still there."

Megatron thought. "Really? Surely not."

"No, they are. Standing there, watching as Hot Rod slowly demeans himself."

"The tones, Autobot. The _tones_. It surely doesn't make it sound more dangerous."

"Ratchet knows this well."

"Maybe I should try it," Megatron decided instantly. "I don't see how it would work, though. Softness implies-"

"Ah, but it shows you are controlling your rage _precisely_- or, conversely, containing said rage, which is building up and up." Prowl wagged a finger knowingly. "The quietness shows that at some point soon, you are going to _explode_."

Megatron twitched. "Explode?"

"Not literally; do I look like Wheeljack? And, it doesn't have to be 'soft'. You can still growl, hiss, snarl or even darkly impend. Whichever suits you. Whispering isn't the be all, end all."

The Decepticon nodded pensively, frowning slightly as he processed this new information. "Why, thank you, Prowl. I shall definitely try it out."

"Just don't tell them I told you so."

Megatron blinked. "Oh, of course not. I'll trial it first; see if it works for me."

The second didn't miss the Evil Glare directed at Starscream.

A yellow blob suddenly bounced painfully just outside of the door.

Prowl's helm snapped around. "Bumblebee?"

"Just _throw_ him then, you _foooooooooooool_-"

"Here, Bumblebee," Prowl whistled lowly, crouching down on the floor.

The sparkling winced, but crawled over.

The Autobot picked him up and checked him over for damage.

"They're tougher than they look. He's fine," Megatron shrugged. "Good bit of bouncing never hurt anyone."

Starscream- who had up to this point been quietly content gently gnawing the mech's foot- squawked and bit him sharply.

"AFT!"

The Seeker whined, frowning. "Ow."

"I didn't hurt you!"

"Bounce _is_ ow."

Prowl blinked. "He picks things up quickly."

"He's useless. He's painfully stupid."

"He's a genius," the Autobot replied thoughtfully.

"A useless one."

"A useless genius?"

"No point to them," Megatron sighed regretfully. "All they do us uselessly cower around."

Prowl didn't mention that most genii would be cowering under Megatron's attentions, but tried to defend said Useless Genius. "Maybe they're thinking intelligent thoughts as they do so."

"Like _what_?"

"**Ow**," Starscream said firmly.

"Well... yes," Prowl admitted. "Probably 'ow', but maybe other things too."

"Like?"

"I don't know! You'd have to find one!"

Bumblebee licked Prowl's hand.

"Yuck, Bumblebee. Germs."

The second placed him on the berth besides Sunny and Sides, who were squaring up to a quietly whimpering Jetfire.

Optimus wriggled out of Megatron's arms and landed on the berth nearby as Sunny growled at the scientist.

Jetfire whined quietly. Starscream frowned and darted up onto the berth behind him.

Optimus crawled in front of the shuttle and patted the other sparkling's helm comfortingly.

Sunny beeped challengingly, optics narrowing.

Sideswipe groaned quietly as Optimus span back around.

The yellow twin snarled and pushed the Prime roughly, but with blinding reflexes faster than Sam twitching fearfully, Starscream tackled him.

Sunny, crashing onto his back, growled as the Seeker bit him.

"Megatron-!" Prowl gasped. "_Do_ something!"

"Why? He snarled at Optimus."

"Doesn't mean he needs to be savaged! ...Besides, it's not Sunny I'm worried about. Starscream will get torn to shreds by them-"

Sunny tried to slap Starscream, but the Seeker dived backwards quickly, then sprang back, clawing him with a snarl.

Sideswipe squeaked, and jumped into the bundle of hissing and spitting.

Sunny punched the Seeker, who winced backwards- only have to have Sideswipe dive onto his back, smacking him into the floor.

Between them, the twosome managed to actually throw the Seeker, then herd him under the desk.

Wincing, Starscream looked up, one optic closed in pain.

The twins were eyeing- not him, but something just past him.

Sideswipe nodded at his brother, just as Starscream realised he was rather cornered in each direction- if not by walls or desk, by angry Autobots. His agility was screwed.

Sunny flung himself on top of the Seeker, trapping him with his superior weight, as Sides crawled over and started poking his wings.

Starscream screeched, wriggling frantically.

Prowl cringed. "I am so sorry! I'll-"

Megatron stopped him from stepping forwards.

"I'll get them-"

"No, don't."

Prowl gaped. "Why?"

Starscream howled as Sunny bit one of his wings.

"Because he needs to learn for himself. He should be able to get out of this."

"He is a _sparkling_!"

"...So are they. An _even _battle."

"There's two of them! They're clever, perfectly co-ordinated, and really quite vicious! And they're individually heavier than him. He has no-"

"Eh," Megatron huffed. "Starscream! Are you just going to _lie_ there like you normally do?"

Starscream whimpered, trying to wriggle away from his aggressors.

"You are second _only_ to me, twerp! Don't lie there uselessly!"

Sunny tugged on a wing, beeping as he did so.

The Seeker instantly hissed, narrowing his optics.

Sideswipe shrugged and whistled, yanking the other appendage roughly.

Starscream helm-butted the silver sparkling, who fell off of him in surprise.

Sunny squeaked, holding his own helm.

The sparklinged Decepticon instantly sank his fangs into the golden meching's neck wiring, and shook him ferociously.

"Ha," Megatron declared. "Um... see?"

"You sound confused."

"Well, the attack was unexpected. Usually he just wriggles and whimpers."

Prowl twitched.

Ratchet sniggered suddenly from the corridor. "Isn't screechy and wriggling the way you like it?"

Megatron- with barely a pause- was quick on the comebacks. "How would _you_ know, medic?"

Starscream snarled, satisfied that Sunny had stopped squirming, and started to rip at the other mechling's abdominal plating.

"No! Bad Starscream!" Prowl shrieked, hurriedly reaching them and trying to bat him away.

The Seeker hissed dangerously, snapping at the Autobot and not letting him near his charge.

Sideswipe whimpered quietly and clutched his own abdomen.

Sunny coughed and strained to get up, but Starscream held him firmly and snarled threateningly as Prowl attempted to come closer.

"Megatron! Do something!"

"Why? I told you so."

The Autobot growled, doorwings rising. "Get that Seeker _away_ from Sunstreaker, or so help me, I'll get him away_ myself_."

Megatron's optics narrowed as he considered this warning. "Oh, will you."

"Right now." Prowl turned, mentally bracing himself, but the Decepticon huffed before he could get any further.

"Starscream, stop it."

The sparkling ignored him and bit Sunny savagely.

Megatron scowled and advanced towards them. "Starscream!"

The Seeker hissed, flared wings stiffly held, and snarled angrily.

"Drop Sunstreaker. Now."

Starscream screeched and attempted to bite him- then instantly cowered as Megatron roughly picked him up.

Prowl quickly grabbed his upset charges and headed for the door. "Ratchet!"

Megatron watched the sparkling, who was still spitting and bristling slightly.

Eventually this was reduced to a self-justified scowl. This would not do.

"So, Starscream."

The sparkling flinched. "Bad useless...?"

"Yes, bad useless. What did you do wrong?"

The Seeker twitched his wings in confusion. "Useless ow nasty."

"No. That was well done. It was something else."

"Useless no know," Starscream whimpered. "Useless very bad."

"Useless is pathetic and naughty," Megatron agreed. "Can you say that?"

"No," Starscream replied honestly.

"I advise you to."

"...Useless pathwetic and naubty," Starscream echoed obediently, wings drooping.

"You really are worthless."

"You worthless?" Starscream repeated worriedly.

"No, Starscream. No."

"_Useless_ worthless?"

"Yes."

The Seeker smiled triumphantly.

"It is not amusing."

"Bad," the mechling frowned decisively. "Worthless is _bad._"

Megatron sighed. "What did you do **wrong**?"

"Nasty ow worthless?"

"No. But that was idiotic of you. What is the point of being fast and agile if you let the enemy trap you underneath a desk?"

"Nasty grr-ow Opty?"

"_'Nasty grr-ow Opty_?!' What is th- Sunstreaker growled and pushed Optimus? That? What has _that_ got to do with you doing something wrong?"

Starscream whined. "Useless not watch Opty."

Megatron growled, but Optimus burbled quietly from the berth, and he stopped. "You did watch Optimus. That was why you attacked that infernal twin."

"Nasty ow Opty," Starscream persisted. "Nasty ow Jetfire."

Megatron glanced at Optimus, who shrugged. "He only pushed him. That isn't an ow. Nor is physical or mental intimidation."

Starscream hung his helm. "Useless _bad_."

"Your self-pity is bad. When you think of what you did _wrongly_, do say," the silver mech grunted, and dropped him onto the berth.

Optimus patted him, and Jetfire squeaked.

Bumblebee's doorwings twitched, and he crawled over to the Seeker with a whistle.

Starscream sat silently, helm still bowed.

Bumblebee reached out curiously and gently touched one of his wings- they flicked irritably as the Seeker flinched.

"Ow."

Megatron noticed his wings were in fact, fairly damaged, covered in scratches and dents.

Bumblebee persisted, quietly stroking the appendage.

"_Ow,_" Starscream insisted, wings twitching unhappily.

Optimus reached out, laid a hand on Bumblebee's arm, and shook his helm solemnly.

Jetfire shuffled over, and regarded the forlorn mechling. He twittered softly, and the Seeker glanced up, then chirped sadly.

"Megsy-!" a flamed Autobot frowned, then pointed at Starscream. "Rwatchy."

"No, Optimus. Not until he knows what he did wrong."

Prime scowled. "Useless Megsy."

Megatron twitched. "How about you forget that word?"

"Silly Megsy."

"That one, too."

Optimus searched his vocabulary. "Ridiculous Megsy."

The Decepticon sighed. "I don't even want to know how you picked that word up."

His brother pouted. "Megsy!"

Megatron sighed, bent down, and spoke quietly to Starscream. "Have you remembered?"

"N-no."

"Think harder, then."

The Seeker bit his wrist, frowning.

"No biting, Starscream."

The wrist flew out of his mouth and was thrown into the air in excitement. "Useless know!"

"...Well?"

The hand froze as Starscream remembered it was a Bad Thing. He whined pitifully.

"You're not going to get whacked for _saying_ it," Megatron scowled.

"...Useless b-bite master?"

"Yes, you did. And you didn't listen to me, either."

Starscream looked up despairingly. "Bad?"

"_Very_ bad."

The Seeker flung his helm into his hands and wailed. "Noooooo!"

Megatron was slightly taken aback by the passionate response as Starscream rocked back and forth, howling miserably.

Optimus frowned at him disbelievingly. "_Megsy_..."

"Starscream! Stop that!"

The sparkling made a horrible choking sound as all noise-making was ceased immediately.

"You're such a _twerp_. Not literally! Just stop your racket, you..." Megatron trailed off, strangling the air.

Starscream coughed quietly, lubricant trailing out of his optics.

"No crying. Crying is weakness."

"Useless weak," Starscream admitted sadly.

"No, you're useless. There's a difference." Megatron watched the sparkling glance up hopefully.

"Useless not all useless?"

"...Not _all _of the time."

Optimus clapped, beaming behind his mask at them.

Ironhide trundled into the room speedily. "Where's Jetf- ah, there you are."

The mechling blinked upon seeing him, then wiggled his arms, bouncing a little in pure excitement.

"Who's my little Jetfire? You are," Ironhide roared happily, picking him up and giving him a quick nuzzle.

Megatron watched, one optic spasming, as the black mech left as swiftly as he had come.

Hot Rod limped by. "Buuuuummbleebeee! Ratchet will kill me if I don't find you!"

The yellow sparkling squeaked, cuddled Optimus' arm, then dived to the floor after his (cough) responsible guardian.

"Would you trust him to guard your life?" Megatron wondered.

"No," Ratchet snarled, materialising. "I wouldn't even trust him with fangirls. In all of his 'awesomeness', he might just bring doom upon us all."

"Indeed," Megatron mused. "Fangirls are very doom-ful."

"...Have you been abusing Starscream?"

"No!"

"Sure. That's why he's bleeding. Come here, Starscream." Ratchet carefully picked the Seeker up, avoiding the damaged wings.

"I didn't!" Megatron looked around wildly, as the medic left. "Optimus?"

"I think he went somewhere with Ironhide," Ratchet replied. "That was when I last saw him."

"Bu- no! Come back! Where are you going!?"

"To the medbay," Ratchet answered slowly, continuing on his journey.

Starscream squeaked.

"Wings, Starscream. They're not very well."

The Seeker twittered miserably in agreement.

They passed Ironhide in the corridor, Megatron following them. "Slow down, Ratchet!"

"Why don't you _stride _faster? Would it sacrifice your dignity?"

* * *

Ironhide sighed and entered his room, placing Jetfire on the floor.

The sparkling hauled himself over to the door, and inspected it.

Ironhide wasn't entirely sure why, but Jetfire seemed happy enough, so he didn't think anymore of it.

A minute later, a tiny wail pre-empted a loud _smack_.

Ironhide whirled about, cannons charging furiously.

A whimpering bucket stared back at him.

"Jetfire?"

The bucket wobbled.

Ironhide tried to pull the object off of the sparkling, but it was firmly stuck. He picked up Jetfire, bucket and all. "Come on, you."

By the time they got to the medbay, Jetfire had calmed down a little bit.

Ratchet stared. "What is _that_?"

"A bucket containing Jetfire, sir."

"Red Alert, your blatant lack of the ability to detect rhetorical questions never ceases to amaze me."

The junior medic eyed the sparkling-bucket. "Why is Jetfire trapped in a bucket?"

Ratchet snarled. "I'll ask the questions-!"

There was a respectful pause.

The CMO began again. "...Ironhide. Why is Jetfire stuck in a bucket?"

Ironhide opened his mouth, but Ratchet shook his helm.

"Actually, I don't even want to know."

"That's so rude!" Ironhide complained.

"How was it rude? I didn't interrupt you! You hadn't started to speak!"

The black Autobot waved a sparkling-bucket in their faces.

"Put him on the table, then."

Ratchet did something magical with his fingers, then poked the bucket firmly in varying places.

Ironhide watched incredulously as the medic finished prodding, then tapped the object, which slowly crumbled.

Jetfire blinked at the sudden light, then whimpered at the sight of Ratchet, reaching for Ironhide.

"...Ratchet."

"Yes?"

"That didn't have any side-effects, right? Your poking?"

"No, Ironhide. That's paint."

Ironhide twitched at the sight of a very pink Jetfire. "I see."

"...I'm guessing paint was in that bucket. Where the Pit did you take him?"

"It appeared from nowhere! He was playing with my door-" Ironhide broke off disbelievingly.

Red Alert winced. "Sounds like someone wanted to tickle you pink."

There was a moment's silence as some plastic slowly rolled across the floor, crumpling slightly as it bounced.

"Leave the jokes out, Red."

"Good idea, sir."

Jetfire wiggled an arm unhappily, then caught sight of the bright limb. Frowning, he inspected the arm from every angle he could, then sucked on his hand thoughtfully.

"Jet, no! That isn't good for you! ...Ratchet, can't you do something?"

Prowl appeared. "Ratchet! Sunstreaker needs-"

"STARSCREAM! DON'T CHEW THAT-"

"No one appreciates me!" Ratchet suddenly howled. "All I ask is for SOMEONE TO RECOGNISE HOW HARD I WORK AND HOW MUCH YOU WOULD ALL BE LOST WITHOUT ME!"

**_"I think he's lost his mind,"_** Jazz muttered inconspicuously over the intercom**_. "A Ratchet Appreciation Day? Don't be silly."_**

There was a quiet pulse of music in the background.

"Jazz, why do you sound like you're crying?"

"**_I'm not_**," the saboteur sobbed.

"What are you doing?"

"**_It's the wonders of Youtube,"_** Jazz wailed.

"Youtube isn't sad," Ironhide frowned.

"**_The wonders of Transformers Wiki, then_**-!"

"Now you're taking the mickey," Ironhide scowled.

Jazz howled in misery, oblivious. "**_How can this be? Such a tragedy- and... oh, this is all too much!_**"

"...Has he become mentally retarded?"

"He _is _retarded. They invented the word for him."

"**_Oh, go invent a club_**," Jazz shrieked. "**_You can call it the B club_**!"

"...Why?"

"**_Because you need a BIG BLOCKY BALL TO BOUNCE ON YOUR BEASTLY, BLOATED BODIES_**!"

"Yes, Jazz. Of course." Red Alert assured.

Ratchet glared at him."Don't encourage him!"

"He's not in the right state of processor," the other mech replied. "Perhaps you should be _nice_. Prime would want that."

Ironhide blinked. "...Where is Optimus?"

"With you," Megatron reminded.

"No, he's not. Last I saw him, he was with _you_."

"Holy- Optimus! WHERE ARE YOU?" Megatron bellowed effectively.

Ratchet sighed. "Maybe he's gone to see Jazz."

"I'VE LOST HIM!" Megatron wailed, flinging himself to the ground in despair.

Ratchet forcefully made himself think of happy things. Unicorns. Rainbows. Sunrise. Hot Rod dying in the golden glow of said sunrise.

"Nooooooooo," Starscream cried. He dived to the floor, nuzzled Megatron, and started sniffing the floor frantically.

"If he is to become a leader," Ironhide noted, "Optimus does have to do things by himself. He won't be in trouble. Who would mess with him?"

"Maybe you're right. ...Starscream, there's no point," Megatron sighed, pushing himself up. "You can't track Optimus; you didn't bite him."

The Seeker snapped his fangs angrily, and continued, bandaged wings flicking irritably. "Prat."

"Did you just call me a prat!?"

"No, nono! Useless _seek_ prat," Starscream declared, looking up at him hopefully.

"Now that's an idea," Ratchet mused. "He did bite Jazz."

"Prat?"

"Yes, Starscream. Jazz is a prat."

"AWAY!" Hot Rod shouted. "WE MUST HUNT FOR PRIME!"

There was a short pause as everyone glared at him, Starscream included.

"Good idea, Starscream," Megatron praised. "Now get on with it."

The Seeker yapped, and trundled along for a while, sniffing.

They followed him down the corridors, reaching Megatron's room.

Starscream peered in, nasal-plates twitching. With a shake of the helm, he bounded onto the berth, turning repeatedly.

Everybody waited anxiously.

Randomly, he flopped down, yawned, and closed his optics.

"...That's not quite right," Hot Rod muttered.

Megatron huffed. "What a fail."

Ratchet, surprisingly, had some sympathy. "His energy levels are very low. It's not surprising he's randomly gone into recharge."

The Decepticon's optics narrowed. "About that." With a large stride, he reached the sparkling, then dug his claws into a recently meshed wing. "Wakey _wakey_, useless."

Starscream shrieked, and writhed in agony. "Ow! Nono!"

"_Yes_, useless."

"Bad useless!" Starscream wailed into the berth. "Useless seek prat now!"

"You had better," Megatron seethed, releasing him.

The Seeker whimpered, bracing himself, and then jumped to the floor.

"Stupid useless," he sniffled, wings drooping.

Megatron rolled his optics. "Violence is always the answer."

"Agreed. Or mental abuse. That works too," Ratchet concurred. "Except he is a sparkling. That wasn't really necessary."

"I know him a little _better _than you do. It was."

Starscream yapped suddenly, and turned to look at Megatron.

"You've got them?"

The mechling nodded. "Useless seek now?"

"Yes."

Starscream bounded off, sniffing occasionally.

* * *

After a very complicated series of twists and loops and backward loops and going in circles, they neared a door, hearing music pulse from within.

Male humans, wailing and whining harmoniously. Nice.

Starscream sniffed at the door, then yapped, sitting back on his haunches.

"In here?"

The Seeker nodded. "Bad useless seeked Prat and Opty."

"No, you _idiot_. You didn't 'seeked' them." Megatron snarled. "Talk about butchering words."

Red Alert knocked on the door. "Jazz?"

The tearful reply was swift. "WHAT?"

"Have you got Prime in there?"

"Yes," Jazz sniffled. "We're appreciating music."

"...Can we come in too?"

_Chica ch-haha._ The door slid open.

"Nice, junior. Go in and talk to the psychopath."

Red Alert sighed, and entered Jazz's hideout.

The lights went out.

"No peeking, Red," Jazz sniffed tearfully. "I'll fetch you Optimus. He's curled up on the chair."

Red Alert dimly saw a bundle being carried towards him by something short.

Optimus whimpered. "Jazz!"

"It's okay, my lovely," Jazz gulped.

Ratchet burst in. "What are you doing?!"

"Just hesitating. I might not see this place again."

"You don't have to come," the CMO snapped rudely. "We'll find our own way back."

Jazz stumbled backwards with a soft cry. "You didn't just say that-!"

"I did. Too rude?"

"Not rude," Jazz whimpered, tears welling up behind his visor. "It's just-"

"Just hand Optimus over," Megatron sighed. "That's all that matters now."

"No matter what," Jazz sobbed, handing the sparkling to him.

"That may have been harsh, but I can't be what I'm not," Megatron declared wistfully.

Jazz wept quietly.

"I don't get it," Prowl whispered.

"I love you anyway," Jazz bawled, flinging himself at Prowl, who blinked. "It's unbelievably hard, but I do-"

"There, there, Jazz. It's only words."

"Would you dedicate them all to me?" the saboteur asked, sniffling.

"Of course."

"If only tears were laughter," Hot Rod mused philosophically. "...But, as I can't deny what I believe-"

"-_what I **believe**_-!" Jazz sang enthusiastically.

"Hot Rod, if what you believe is true," Ironhide suddenly announced, "I don't want to believe a single word you say."

"But words are all I have!"

"_That's_ true," Ratchet huffed. "What are we still doing here?"

"Starscream-!" Jazz caught sight of the Seeker hiding behind Megatron. "No hard feelings. I'm sorry I went near Optimus."

"Good prat," Starscream replied quietly, injured wing held a little lower than the other.

Jazz hiccupped. "Love him for a reason, Megatron. Let the reason be _looooooove_-"

Ironhide scowled. "Is he high?"

Ratchet scanned him. "Worryingly, no."

"...Brig?"

"Sometimes, I _know_ why you're my best friend."

"Aww, Ratch. Same here. But you shouldn't say such things!" The black mech nudged him.

Ratchet stabbed a sedative into the singing spy. "I should."

"I'm delirious," Jazz wailed, jumping into Ratchet's arms.

The CMO glared at the ceiling. "...Why me?"

* * *

That last part won't make much sense at all unless you've heard any Boyzone songs. It is a sad day; RIP, Stephen Gately. ):

Well, have a good week! And don't forget to check out **Clumsy Peg**'s profile- even if it's only for the collaboration!

...I'll set Ratchet, Prowl, and Soundwave on you if you don't.

Maybe Megatron, too.

Dare you disobey?


	19. Chapter 19

Everybody, _welcome_! I missed you. :'3 Hope you all had a swell week.

Straight down to my notices, today. No mucking around! :3

(Disclaimer first, though, as I haven't done one in a while:_ I don't own Transformers. I'm not making any money from this. Umm... that's about it, really.)_

1: November is nearly upon us! Who's entering for National Novel Writing?

:P Come on. 50,000 words in one month? 1,666 a day? No SWEAT. I'm sure that among all the Transfans we have some contenders who will bravely accept this challenge!

2: _The Edge of Reason_ is now over 100,000 words. It is officially a _novel_, I do believe. xP I never thought we would be on such a journey together, dear readers.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

No, we're not done yet-! Fear not. Not by a_ loooong_ shot. I'm determined to leave you all _satisfied, _and I have some delicious material coming up.

Besides, there's always the sequel. o_O Oh, Gawwwd. Save me.

3: It's that time again! We have passed 200 reviews.

Not sure if I deserve so many, but oh, how I nearly wept and actually screeched with utter _joy_.

Thank you, thank you, **_thank you_**, to anyone who has favourited, alerted, or reviewed.

To my beloved reviewers: **Kittisbat, 9aza, Heir to the World, -Zanzizarr-, AuthorSquared, Transition, ****Kotomi Miyamura****, ****laureas****, RzSpeeder, Lioness09Wolf, Clumsy Peg, SKIDDY, ****Victoria-BlackHeart****, **and**Eoywn77**, you are all BEASTS. And **Splatter Fall**. :3 You're there too.

What high commendation. :3

You made my life all better again, you see. I nearly was killed by someone attempting to swing a door into my head at work the other day. o_O

It would explain my crack, but this chapter could have been very different to how it turned out.

You, dear reviewers, have _saved_ this fiction with your lovely words and unwavering support.

Beautiful beings, welcome one and all to my second _Super-Special-Awesome-Super-Long-Marathon-Chapter._

**This is dedicated to all of you, as I certainly wouldn't be on Chapter 19 without any support.**

**Warning: I'm thrusting you right in with some Megatron/Starscream scenes.**

**Be ready; belts on.**

******Food away, drinks placed firmly down.**

******Have your oxygen masks nearby, and please _don't_ melt.**

**I hope you enjoy it.**

**:D**

* * *

Megatron sighed happily. "Soon, Starscream. Soon."

He lounged upon his berth, a slight air of Evil radiating off of him.

Said mechling looked up from where he had been curled up by Megatron's side. "Soons?"

His commander snarled threateningly. "You are _so-_"

"Useless," Starscream finished sadly. "Useless."

"_Very _useless."

"Vewwy?" The Seeker looked like he was about to cry. "Why?"

"Are you questioning me?" Megatron hissed.

"No, no!" Starscream attempted to dive onto his front in supplication.

Problem was, when one is already lying down, one can't really dive downwards, as one is already laid upon the surface.

With a tiny shriek of outrage at this injustice, the Seeker paused, thinking.

It didn't take long for him to roll over onto his back- admittedly not the normal course of action, but still, it was the thought that counted.

Megatron glared as Starscream whined, limbs slightly sticking up into the air. "Have you nothing to say? No way to explain such _treachery_?"

"...Bad useless. B-"

"You talk too much," the mech raged, swiftly stamping on him whilst still Evilly reclining. Pretty nifty.

Being kind, he did stamp gently, only crushing Starscream a little.

Starscream felt like fifteen Transformer-size giraffes had stepped onto him. So he did what came naturally, and screeched (rather loudly). "MASTER!"

Megatron exhaled wistfully. "I almost thought you were you for an astro-second there."

Starscream whimpered, still rather crushed.

"Oh, shut up."

"...Peasthe?"

"What was _that_?"

"N-nothing." Starscream feebly scratched his foot. "Pweasthe?"

Megatron's optics narrowed. "'N-nothing'_ what_?"

Starscream cringed. "...Nothing, m-master."

"You know," Megatron suddenly mused, "A while ago, I remember saying something to you about your use of the word _nothing_. Remember?"

It wasn't a question, but Starscream answered nonetheless. "Nonoes."

Megatron didn't stop to consider that this could be due to the fact that his Air Commander was a sparkling, and was therefore maybe unable to access such memory files. "Then you'll have to learn not to forget my lessons. _Another_ thing to do when you mature."

Starscream blinked. "Thingsth?"

"Yes."

"What we do?"

"Why do _you_ want to know? My plans do not need to be revealed, because they are mine! And I am MEGATRON! ...You won't get out of them, no matter how much you whine."

The Seeker shook his helm. "Useless _very_ useless. Useless bad at do."

"...Don't worry your tiny, insignificant processor about it. Insignificant; another word for you."

"Insthingwiffycants?"

Megatron briefly wondered whether he should even comment on this Epic Fail. "DID I GIVE IT A PLURAL FORM?"

"N-no... b-but master c-clever. Master big. Useless _useless._"

"Don't fret, Starscream." Megatron flashed a fanged and incredibly Evil smile. "You don't have to _do _much. _I_ do all of the hard work."

"...Useless no help?"

"Useless doesn't need to. What help could you give anyway? Master can take care of matters by himself. Especially, _especially_ matters concerning _you_."

Starscream lay quietly underneath Megatron's foot.

Finally, Megatron thought, finally he understood. The mech removed his appendage from the Seeker and assumed an appropriately Evil expression whilst he waited for something to happen- something like an Evil idea. Or maybe even a loud explosion- perhaps that retarded engineer finally finishing that machine. It wasn't like he was picky.

"M-master?"

Oh, how he knew that tone. It was the one of imminent usurping.

"_Yes_, my **_dearest_**," he snarled extra-nastily.

Yes, there would be no usurping _today_, thank you very much.

"Master, why useless here?"

Obviously he was _far_ more useless than anticipated.

"What?"

Starscream, still on his back, was gazing at him upside down and wearing a tiny frown. "Why useless here?"

"Literally? Metaphorically? Spiritually? Philosophically? I can't _think_ of any more _ally_ words! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

Starscream cringed and thought again.

"Hurry _up_ or forget about it."

Starscream twittered busily, clutching his helm in thought.

"Very well," Megatron sniffed, stretching once and then getting up. "Too bad. I'm sure it would have been very interesting... in a _useless_ sort of way."

"No!" Starscream rapidly bounded to the edge of the berth. "Master, wait!"

"Did I tell you that you could get up?"

"Nonoes?"

Megatron glared in response.

The sparkling threw himself onto his back. "Good?"

"You're such an idiot."

"Stwarscweam good idiot?"

"It seems to come naturally for you."

Starscream's tiny limbs twitched. "This bad."

"What _now_?"

"Wings ow," the Seeker complained.

"I can rip them off for you," Megatron offered kindly.

"Wip?"

"Yes."

"Wip ow?" Starscream asked suspiciously, pursing his lips slightly.

"Maaaaaaaybe. But if you weren't crushing your own wings, it wouldn't be a problem, would it?"

Starscream clicked (metaphorically and literally, by the way), and rolled over onto all fours. "Better."

"Here we go _again_," Megatron sighed forcefully. "Did I tell you that you could move?"

"Noes," the Seeker admitted. "Useless go back?"

Again, Megatron's glare advised him to, so Starscream eyed the berth warily, then slowly settled onto his back. "Not so bad," he commented.

"Do I care? Do it again," the mech commanded. "And do it _properly_."

"But ow!" With a tiny sigh, Starscream heaved himself up again. "This silly."

"Get on with it, minion."

The Seeker hurled himself on his back enthusiastically. "OW!"

Megatron sniggered. "Well done."

"Ow_ baaaad_," Starscream whined, writhing unhappily as he tried to relieve the pressure on his wings.

"No, ow good."

A shriek. "Ow _GOOD_!?"

"I said so, didn't I?"

Starscream considered this. "Master wise, and master good. Master be right, as master is good. Master clever, too."

"Exactly." Megatron started to walk away.

"Master, wait-!" the mechling wailed, wiggling his legs and arms. "Useless move?"

Megatron strode out of the room. "No."

There was a hysterical howl. "MASTER! NO!"

The commander continued.

"...Pwease?" The whimper was barely audible.

"Hurry up," Megatron snapped with an irritated twitch. "You're so _slow_."

There was a sudden frantic scrambling before a blur of a Starscream rocketed towards him.

"Sorries, master," the blur gasped, clinging onto his leg.

"Get off, worthless. Go back to my room."

The Seeker released him reluctantly. Then, as Megatron strode off again, his words sank in. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Megatron winced at the harsh screech. "Shut up."

Starscream dived in and out of his legs. "Master, wait!"

"Why should I?"

"Useless confused!"

"When _aren't_ you?"

"Master 'splain, useless no confused." Even as he zigzagged in and out, Starscream's optics appeared to grow until they were like two large pools of _redness_.

Megatron was caught in the trap as his optics briefly flickered down (it wasn't that he cared about standing on the Seeker. It was just that he didn't particularly want squashed, screeching Seeker underneath him).

"Woah," he muttered quietly, unable to stop himself.

Starscream literally pounced on the opportunity (or, rather, the mech's foot). "Got you-!"

"Yes, Starscream. You've really pinned me down. I can't move at _all_."

The sparkling shrieked with joy and cuddled the appendage, then became deadly serious. "...Master clever. Master help useless?"

Megatron considered this. "Hmm."

Starscream pressed him a little. "Useless stupid."

"More," the Decepticon hummed.

"Master s-significant," the Seeker declared firmly.

"...You took that from _in_significant?"

"Y-yes. Useless bad?"

"No," Megatron frowned. "That was good. Continue."

"Master very, _very_ big." Starscream's optics widened even further to emphasise this all-important fact.

"You can say _that _again."

"Master very, very big. Useless useless and weak."

"I have told you before-"

"Useless _not_ weak," the mechling squeaked. "Useless worthless!"

"So you are," Megatron rumbled happily.

"Master help his useless?" Starscream begged, optics expanding to the point of insanity as he pawed the foot.

"Very well. What's was your problem _this_ time?"

Starscream twittered fleetingly in excitement. "Master know useless useless?"

"I will always remind you. Fear not. Problem solved."

"Master _great_," the Seeker declared thoughtfully, throwing his arms into the air and promptly losing his balance, toppling onto the floor.

"Why, thank you."

"No, noes. _Listen_," Starscream frowned, picking himself up.

"I'll let that order slide this once."

"...Useless confused. Why master need a useless? Why useless with master?"

Megatron froze.

Starscream blinked, worried. "Bad useless?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Useless no know..." the sparkling whimpered. "No ows...?"

"I'll ow you if I want to."

Starscream cringed in preparation and attempted to hide his helm in Megatron's foot.

"Me sorries," came a slightly muffled plea.

Megatron's other foot gently nudged him. "Stop your whining."

"Useless no be owed?"

"No," the commander sighed.

Starscream bit his lip as his face shakily re-emerged. "Useless confused."

"Come on." Megatron gestured to his shoulder.

The Seeker screeched in delight and sprang, climbing up the big mech until he reached the indicated point.

Megatron strode down the corridor.

"...Master?"

"Yes, Starscream?"

"What you do?"

"We're going to terrorise the Autobots."

"But useless _useless_. Useless no can do terrorise."

"You are not _that _useless- your self-esteem is so low. Primus," Megatron scowled. "Anyone would think you were abused, or something."

Starscream giggled. "Useless help?"

"Yes. I _could_ do it myself, but I'm very kind. I'll let you join me."

There was quiet for a little while. There was nothing but the striding of Megatron, which was unsurprisingly loud, and the occasional tweet as Starscream... well, who knows? He was just _tweeting_. Don't pressurise me for a reason, dammit.

Megaton dramatically frowned, clearly deeply troubled by my lack of explanation. "What are you _tweeting_ about?"

"...We see Opty?"

"You want to?"

"If master does," the sparkling mumbled.

"Honestly. You _are_ allowed opinions or suggestions."

"Useless is?"

"Only if they coincide with mine."

Ratchet's helm popped out of a doorway as he watched Megatron stride away.

"Well, they seem to get along sometimes," Red Alert noted.

"Hm. If you can call _that_ getting along."

"...Sir?"

"What?" Ratchet turned back momentarily before walking out, huffing. "Move yourself. There's _patients_ to be seen."

Red Alert hurried after the CMO. "Why _does_ Megatron keep Starscream around? And for that matter, why does Starscream stay with him? It's not like there's any benefits."

Ratchet groaned. "We'd need a whole new fic to cover that."

"We would?"

"We _would_."

"...Sir? What's a '_fic_'?"

"The very _bane_ of our lives, junior. You've no idea what agonies and tortures we've all been through. Oh, _you_ don't have to worry. You're a minor character."

"Thank Primus," Ironhide scowled, as they entered the medbay. "You're medics, aren't you? You don't have _lives_, so stop pretending you do. You should be in here at all times."

"Shut up, Ironhide. What have you done with that poor sparkling of yours?"

"Nothing!" The black mech bristled. "He's in _there_."

"In my OFFICE?!"

"With Optimus," Ironhide justified. "They seemed to get along."

Red Alert decided to glean more information. "Ironhide, what do you think of fanfics?"

"Why don't you just read one and find out," the Weapons Specialist suggested.

The slight snigger that accompanied this innocent proposal was not lost on Ratchet, who hissed. "No. _No_, Red Alert. Go _near_ a fanfiction and there will be... _retribution_. I will _not_ have you corrupted."

The ambulance held his hands up soothingly. "Alright, sir."

"And how could _you_ even suggest it!?" Ratchet snarled at Ironhide.

"Well, he should at least know _what_ they are," the mech scowled. "Otherwise temptation may overcome him."

"Temptation is _nothing_ compared to what **_I _**will deal out," Ratchet spat, optics narrowing dangerously.

Megatron strode smoothly in, planting himself in the entrance. "And I, _Megatron_, will deal out something entirely my own."

Starscream poked him softly in the pause that followed. "For I...?"

"FOR I AM **_MEGATRON_**-!" the Decepticon howled. Effects included all clenchy-clenchy fists and dramatic throwing back of helm.

Ratchet was surprised he didn't beat his chassis as well. "What are you idiots _doing_," he snapped. "Haven't you anyone else to annoy?"

"Well, after you _stole_ Optimus yesterday, I was righteously annoyed," Megatron announced with righteous annoyance. "So I came to pick him up."

"Well, you can't," Ratchet snarled. "He's rather unstable."

Red Alert frowned. //**_Is_**_ Prime unstable, sir? Last time I checked, he was fine, if not extremely tired from lack of recharge./_/

_//...No. I've just decided he is. And he recharges too much anyway._//

Megatron was in mid-speech when Ratchet decided to tune back in. "-hy? Did that stunted saboteur of yours mess with him?"

"No, you hulking monstrosity."

It was rather easy to pretend you had been listening to someone when you were Ratchet. Just hurl an insult around and they assumed you had heard and/or cared.

Starscream gave a tiny high-pitched growl, and jumped off of Megatron's shoulder, only to be caught mid-air.

"No jumping. How many times?"

After being lowered to the ground, the Seeker zoomed at Ratchet and tried to chew his leg.

"Off, Starscream. Or I'll remove your interfacing-"

"You expect him to understand _that_?!" Megatron shrieked, diving for the suddenly cowering sparkling and scooping him up. "Stop that at once, medic!"

"Well, I was counting on _your_ reaction," Ratchet sniggered. "He knows that he's done something bad now that you're distressed."

"I'm not distressed! I am MEGATRON! ...Don't _ever_ bite Ratchet," Megatron firmly ordered. "The yellow one. _Don't_ bite him."

"Bite?"

"No biting." Megatron placed Starscream on the floor again.

The Seeker edged around Ratchet, then bounded into his office.

"What's he doing in there," the CMO demanded. "He shouldn't feel free to wander around!"

"STARSCREAM! YOU'RE ANGERING RATCHET," Megatron shouted. "COME OUT IMMEDIATELY!"

"But _PINK_!"

"What _is_ he referencing? There's nothing pink in your office, sir. Not that I knew of," Red Alert mused.

"There's Jetfire," Ironhide corrected.

"PIIIIIIIIIIIINK!"

"Primus," Ratchet scowled, covering his audio receptors. "I'm actually going to-"

"STAAAAARSCREEEEEEEEAAAM!" the commander howled.

The Seeker peered around the door. "Jetfire _pink_."

Starscream disappeared once more, then re-emerged with something soft in his mouth, and tried to speak round it. "Pink."

"And? Come here. Do I need to get a _lead_ for you?"

Ironhide repressed a snigger badly. "Heheh. No telling _what _does it for-"

Megatron glared at him, then looked down as something squishy was dropped on his foot.

Starscream panted happily, wings flicking. "Pink!"

Megatron inspected the squishy thing, but it was Ratchet who recognised it.

"That's my voodoo doll."

"Why is it pink?"

"It represents someone."

"ME?!" Megatron roared. "It must be! I am MEGA-"

"Are you _pink_, Megatron?" Ratchet asked witheringly.

"...Are you stupid? I am silver!" Megatron enlightened the Autobot, then nudged Starscream. "Give it back to Ratchet. It's not yours."

Starscream whined, but slowly picked up the voodoo doll and carried it over to the CMO, wings drooping.

"Drop it," Ratchet commanded.

The Seeker did so, then turned away.

Ratchet sighed, then maliciously smiled. "Look, Starscream!"

The sparkling looked back, and saw Ratchet wiggling the doll near the floor. Confused, he tilted his helm.

"Want it? Go fetch," Ratchet ordered, hurling the voodoo doll against the wall. There was a sickening thud as it bounced off. Then Starscream pounced on it, growling ferociously.

"Here, boy," the CMO continued.

Starscream bounded toward him, dragging the doll and shaking it occasionally.

"Who's a clever Starscream?"

"Bleuuhh," the sparkling tried to reply through a mouthful of voodoo magic before dropping it.

Ratchet gave him a tickle and then booted the doll out into the corridor. Starscream was a streak of colour as he sped after it.

Ratchet sighed happily. "Hopefully this voodoo will come to some effect."

"You're evil."

"And?"

Megatron glared at him, then frowned at Starscream, who was now sitting by his foot, gnawing the doll. "Stop wandering off. Unless _you'd_ like to be pink."

"No, no. Me fine. Me stay."

"Well, Ratchet was just about to explain fanfiction, if you want to stay for that," Ironhide breezed.

A sudden, decidedly un-breezy tempest scored the walls of the base, icy bite digging at Ironhide's cannons and optics.

He realised that it was possibly Ratchet's glare of Ultimate Pain. In other words, he was screwed.

Glare wasn't a strong enough word, really. It was like the blast of an explosion.

An icy, chilling, controlled and concentrated explosion.

After realising that it was Ratchet's icy, chilling, visual blast, Ironhide also concluded he was in it deep. _Very_ deep.

"You're in it deep," Megatron declared. "_Very_ deep."

Maniacal caws echoed faintly. "SOUNDWAVE DEEEEP-"

Starscream whimpered. "No!"

"What _now_?!" Ratchet snarled.

"No Soundthy! Useless good! No Soundthy!" Starscream shrieked, frozen in terror. "No!"

Megatron firmly stamped on the Seeker before he could make a run for it. "Thank you _so_ much, whoever that was. He's going to be hysterical now."

"NOOO-!" Starscream wailed, wriggling desperately. "Useless no bad!"

"Stop it!"

"Soundthy when useless bad!" The Seeker sobbed. "Useless good!"

Ratchet rubbed his nasal plating. "You're going to have to get out of my medbay, and preferably, my life."

"Why?" Megatron asked, now trying to smother Starscream.

"_He's_ not going near Optimus, regardless of how _smothered_ he is."

"Yeaaaaah," Ironhide agreed. "You're bad enough on your own,"

"Fine," Megatron scowled. "I don't see why, but _fine_. I'll leave him here. Where's Optimus?"

"Office."

Megatron closed the medbay door behind him inconspicuously.

"What are y-"

"Do you _want_ him running wild in your base?"

"Put him in there," Ratchet ordered, pointing at an unoccupied room.

Megatron eyed it for a moment, optics narrowing, before kicking Starscream in.

Ironhide couldn't help but be appreciative as the sparkling crashed into the wall opposite, then slowly slid down said obstacle to splat on the berth. "What a shot!"

"Not a bad welly," Red Alert agreed.

Ratchet hit them both. He didn't need to explain.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"NOOOOOOOOOO-!" the sparkling howled- it is highly likely that his howl lasted for longer than that, but I'm sure you can imagine it- and somehow appeared on Megatron's chassis.

"Get _off_. Stay in there until I return."

"No, master! Pweathe! No leave!"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Soundthy bad! Useless s-scared..."

The plea was somewhat lost as Megatron succeeded in untangling Starscream from him. "Enough."

Starscream whined as he was set back on the berth and clung to one of Megatron's claws pleadingly.

"I don't know what the issue is!"

"Soundthy _ow_," Starscream whispered earnestly.

Megatron sighed. "Soundwave isn't here."

"Soundthy _always_ here." After parting with this piece of knowledge, Starscream's optics darted about frantically. "Soundthy everwhere. Pweathe? No leave?"

Megatron opened his mouth, but no words came forth. "Ehh..."

The Seeker whimpered quietly and nibbled the mech's claw.

Ratchet was firm. "He's not going near Optimus."

"He can't be left on his own-"

"**Starscream**_. _**Is**_. **Not****.**** Going****.** **I**_**n.** **The**. **Same. Room.** **As**. **Optimus Prime**!" Ratchet coughed calmly into a fist. "...Do you understand?"

There was another howl from somewhere in the base. "THIS. IS. **_SPAAAAAARTAAAAAAAAAAAA_**!"

Starscream glanced behind Megatron's bulk (or tried to) at the CMO. "Useless no see Opty?"

"That's right."

The mechling shrieked. "Why!?"

"Because you're unpredictable and vicious."

Starscream blinked. "...Useless confused. Useless _useless_."

"ARRG!" Ratchet strangled Ironhide, as he happened to be the closest. "NO! This has _nothing_ to do with your _failing_ tendencies!"

"_Everything_ can be related back to Starscream's failing tendencies," Megatron disagreed witheringly.

The sparkling dived off of the berth and skidded to a halt before the Autobot. "Useless be good!"

"No."

"Useless no be bad," Starscream persisted. "Pweathe?"

It was a deadly look of Cute that was being aimed in his direction. Ratchet was unfazed, but decided to explain in the hope that the mechling might understand.

"There's a problem with that, Starscream," he announced, crouching to communicate more effectively.

"Stwarscweam try help." The Seeker bit his lip and screwed up his little face. "But Stwarscweam very useless."

"The problem is that you're rather unpredictable."

Starscream blinked. "Confused."

"We don't know what you might do."

"Oh! Me tell you! Useless be good!"

"But you bite, Starscream. And it hurts. And you might bite Optimus, and he's very important."

Starscream whined. "Me no bite Opty! No!"

He paused, and scampered back to Megatron. "...Master? What biting?"

Megatron sighed a great sigh of eternal patience, and rammed a claw in his mouth. Starscream screeched with bliss and sucked it.

"No, Starscream. What else do you do?"

The Seeker nibbled it in thought. "Useless bite?"

"There you go."

"Useless no bite Opty! Opty good!" Starscream shrieked in the general direction of Ratchet.

"There isn't a guarantee."

"But me no bite Opty before! Opty and Jetfire no were bited!"

"He has a point," Megatron agreed. "Even if his grammar is utterly repulsive, he didn't."

"I'm not taking the _chance_," Ratchet hissed.

"But-" Starscream glanced back at Megatron. "Useless vicious?"

"It has to be admitted." The Decepticon paused, then beckoned him.

The Seeker scrambled up onto his shoulder and listened intently as Megatron spoke into his audio receptors very _very_ quietly. "And I'm proud of you; I wouldn't have you any other way."

Starscream's optics twitched and his mouth wibbled. "Master is?"

"...If you stop your wibbling. It's nauseating."

Unsure of how to express himself, Starscream cheeped, tiny wings trembling joyfully.

"Will you do something for me?"

"Useless _try_," Starscream resolved.

"I need you to sit _there_. I won't be long."

The sparkling froze. "Master come back?"

"Yes."

"Master promise?"

"Why should I promise you anything?" Megatron challenged.

Starscream struggled to think of a reason for a minute. "...Me your useless?"

"I do not _promise_," Megatron declared. "Promising is for weaklings! I **_swear_**."

"Frag," Starscream replied loudly.

"WHHAAAAT?"

"Useless say nothing!" Starscream tried to jump down, but Megatron's hand shot out, catching him.

"_Nothing_."

"Useless bad. Useless not say frag."

Megatron hissed. "Where did you learn such a word?"

"M-master said frag...?"

"STOP SAYING IT!"

"Kays." Starscream bit his wrist hesitantly. "Stwarscweam go now?"

"No! I never said the f-word! Where did you hear it?"

Starscream pouted around his wrist, confused. "Nonoes. Master did."

"_When_?!"

"Useless no can tell-"

"_Slag_ you, little glitch! When the slagging Pit did I slagging well say the f-word?!"

"Stwarscweam very confused," the sparkling whimpered. "Slaggy Stwarscweam?"

"WRRAAAAAAARWWWWH!" Megatron snarled. "Where did you pick up _that _one?!"

"...M-master never say f-word. O-or s-word," Starscream quietly concluded.

"Thought not. Now go and sit over there."

The Seeker scurried onto the berth.

"Stay _right_ there, or else I'll deal with you."

Starscream lay down _very _quickly.

Megatron glared once, then left.

Ratchet scowled at the sparkling. "You'd better not move."

Starscream whined. "Scary r-rellow-thing."

"_I'm _scary, and Megatron isn't?" Ratchet took a slight pride in this.

"Who Megatwon?"

The CMO nearly hit himself. He might have done, except he was _Ratchet_, and therefore had subordinates to hit. Red Alert was out of arms reach, so he contented himself by throwing a dirty glare at said mech and a data-pad at Ironhide - which, happy coincidence, collided with his optics- before replying. "The silver colossal beast who just left."

"..._Master_ go," Starscream tried helpfully. "Scary rellow-thing mean master?"

"He's certainly not _my _master."

"...Why?"

"Because for some _bizarre_ reason, I'm not going to let him dominate me."

"Dwaaaah?"

"Dominate." Ratchet watched the Seeker think this new word over.

"What it mean? Good?"

Ironhide pushed Ratchet roughly. "Yes, Starscream. It's a form of love."

"Lwove? What lwove?"

"It's- how can I explain _love_?" Ironhide gesticulated lamely.

Red Alert, unexpectedly, stepped in. "It's an intense emotion of affection or fondness and a great attachment towards a beloved person or thing."

"Or a dee- I mean, a feeling of sexual attraction and desire," Ratchet snickered quietly.

"What thexual?"

"Good one, Ratchet," Ironhide growled. "Want to explain that one?"

"I dispute your definition, sir," Red Alert declared. "I believe that is _lust_."

"I would have thought domination was quite a lusty process," Ironhide mused.

"Well, I don't suppose we'll ever know," Red Alert sighed.

"I don't lust over you, Red."

"Good to know, sir."

"You _idiot-_" Ratchet hit him. "Domination isn't _always_ a lusty process."

"You can say it, you know. Dom-in-a-tion," Ironhide enthused kindly, as Starscream shuffled quietly. Sparklings just made him all warm inside, even if they were vicious Decepticon-spawn.

"No, no." Starscream sadly shook his helm. "Useless _useless_."

"How will you ever be able to say anything if you don't try?"

"...but master say no."

"He isn't here," Ratchet shrugged.

"No!"

"You know," the CMO began threateningly, moving towards him, "I think you need a _check-up_."

"Woah, Ratch," Ironhide tried. "That's a bit mean."

"Mean? Why, it's only a _check-up_."

"Exactly," Ironhide muttered quietly. "And there's a difference between check-ups and _check_-_ups_."

Red Alert winced in sympathy.

Starscream whimpered as the mech impended upon him. "Nonoes!"

"Just say the word."

"No!" The Seeker looked like he was about to make a run for it.

"Didn't Megatron tell you to stay _right_ there?"

Red Alert helpfully played an audio recording of the mech himself. "_Stay **right** there..."_

"Thank you, Red."

Starscream wailed. "No ow!"

"He might ow you if he finds you _moved_." Ratchet wiggled his own hand threateningly.

Starscream snapped at it as it drew closer, then cowered. "Sorries! Useless unpredictable! Bad useless!"

"No. That _was_ predictable," Ratchet loomed. "Say it."

"Why?!" Starscream shrieked.

"Because-"

Megatron happened to stride back into the room at this moment. "...Ratchet? What are you doing? STARSCREAM! How dare you provoke- you'd better not have bitten him! Did he bite you, Ratchet?"

"He did _try_."

Red Alert and Ironhide winced visibly as Megatron froze.

"But seeing as he's so useless and all, he missed, and didn't try again," Ratchet continued, to audible sighs of relief that their CMO wasn't a completely sadistic mech.

"Are you sure?"

"Would he still have his interfacing systems if he did?"

Megatron twitched.

The sparkling trembled. "Useless bad. Useless move now?"

"Come here, aft."

Starscream shot across to him and clung to his leg. "Sorries."

"Get off."

"Master dominate useless?"

"What pronunciation!" Ironhide pumped an arm in victory.

Megatron blinked at the mechling. "Excuse me?"

"Pweathe, dominate useless!"

Megatron levelled a rightly suspicious glare at the Autobots. "What is this?"

"Nothing," Ironhide instantly shrugged.

"_Nothing_."

Starscream pouted thoughtfully. "Scary rr-rellow thing?"

"Yes?"

"Is master dominatrix?"

Ironhide choked quietly.

"Say that _again_," Megatron snarled, hosting the Seeker into the air. "I'm _what_?"

Ratchet felt a slight responsibility. "Somehow, he just got the ending wrong, Megatron. No offence intended."

"**_Oh_**?"

It was a threatening '**_oh'_**. The Decepticon had learnt from the best, after all.

"Try again, Starscream," the CMO urged.

"Yeah," Ironhide snickered, trying to control himself. "Try again."

Ratchet clouted him, hoping the sparkling's processor would be advanced enough to work it out.

"...D-dominating?"

"_That_ will do."

"M-master dominating?"

"Clever Starscream," Megatron purred.

Ironhide's helm snapped around at a faint noise. He went to investigate.

"It'll be Jetfire trying to un-pinkify himself," Ratchet sighed.

Megatron snorted. "What?"

"He's trying to scrape off his pink paint."

"And?"

"Any means necessary."

"Put that laser scalpel _down_!" Ironhide shrieked.

A wail. "PINK!"

"The only scary pink thing around here is _you_... and maybe Arcee."

Seeing a frowning Starscream gnawing his wrist, Megatron stuck a claw near his mouth. The mech's faint scowl of _I'm-a-big-evil-tyrant-ain't-nobody-changing-that_ disappeared as the Seeker grabbed it and nibbled contentedly.

"You're certainly very controlling," Ratchet commented.

"Your point?"

"You didn't use to be like that."

"I didn't _use_ to have a useless second in command."

"You think this will actually have an effect on his adult nature?"

"Isn't anything worth a shot?"

* * *

The lingering question lingered a while- as it should, being rhetorical.

The pause is long enough for us to go and investigate what _else_ is happening on this fine day. Let us zoom past Ironhide, valiantly endeavouring to wrestle that scalpel off of Jetfire, and Optimus pouting heroically at the unfairness of life and of _pink_ in general.

No, we need not linger to watch Prowl mind-trick Sunny and Sides into jumping into a bath in which they cannot escape hygiene. Nor even should we stay to watch Arcee laugh to the point of pain as she watches Hot Rod try to catch Bumblebee and stop him helm-butting Sam.

We cannot even pop in to see Jazz: although he is very alone, he is mentally insecure at this moment, and we shouldn't approach him. Fanboys and fangirls marvelling at you is not usually pleasant on a _good_ day.

Let him suffer in silence; we shall be true fans and shall not disturb him.

We will go and watch Wheeljack. There he is-! Great inventor and bumbling, unintentional dork with unspeakably dangerous hobbies.

I shall set the scene by telling you that all you need to know is that an explosion is forthcoming. But you already know this, as it is Wheeljack we speak of.

Please put on your opaque red or blue safety-goggles and fluffy ear-muffs, colour dependant on your preferred faction. Yes, ear-muffs are now part of the standard protective gear for explosions. Don't argue.

* * *

Wheeljack was humming cheerfully, absent-mindedly fiddling with a tiny switch on the side of the Weird Device. Wheeljack cannot afford to be absent-minded. Ever.

"Who's a pretty device? You are," he crooned, caressing it.

It promptly exploded in his face.

He inhaled happily, smoke sucked into his vents. //_Getting smaller, Ratch!_//

//_I don't give a frag anymore. Don't call me Ratch. And thirdly, you're an engineer. Why can't you do something without it exploding? Do I kill someone and say "Getting quicker"?! No?! H- what have you done **this** time?!_//

Wheeljack heard something in the background. //_Something exploded, Ratch!//_

_//FIX THE DAMNED MACHINE!//_

Ratchet cursed loudly, ending the communication.

"Well," Ironhide commented-

Was it just Ratchet, or was Ironhide being exceptionally infuriating today?

"At least that's one down," the black Autobot finished, gesturing at Starscream.

"NO, IT ISN'T! LOOK AT MEGATRON!" the CMO shrieked. "HE WAS A HORROR AS A SPARKLING!"

The recently-turned sparkling Decepticon Commander blinked at them, and snarled.

"But he is kind of cute, in an inappropriate and evil way." Ironhide tried to look on the bright side.

Megatron scowled, and bashed the thing closest to him.

It happened to be a freshly rejuvenated Starscream.

"OW!" The Seeker screeched, skidding behind Ironhide for protection.

Clearly his processor hadn't caught up yet. Ironhide waited patiently as Starscream slowly got to his feet.

"Ow, ow, ow. My helm hurts."

Ratchet scanned him. "No permanent damage, sadly. The mental retardation was already present-"

"Excuse me?!" Starscream was finely attuned to discreet _and_ obvious insults.

"Nothing."

"Hey, Starscream," Ironhide sniggered.

"What," the Decepticon snapped. "What _now_?"

"You're a very sweet sparkling, you know."

Starscream's optics narrowed. "What?"

Ratchet _discreetly _threw a spanner at Ironhide. It inconspicuously smacked into his optic. "Nothing, Starscream. He's talking about your, er, youth."

"A little _random_ to bring it up now... how come I have a large, unspoken-for gap in my memory?" The Seeker frowned dangerously.

Ironhide watched Starscream bite his wrist thoughtfully. //_He's going to work it out, isn't he?_//

//_Thanks to **you**. Let us not speak of it. Denial is the way forward!_//

//_But he's going to see Megatron!_//

Ratchet froze as he caught sight of the silver menace snarling at a berth leg. "Oh, _frag_."

Starscream's helm snapped round, partly recognising the sound. "My liege? ...What have you done with him, Autobots?! Where is h-"

A growl caught his attention.

"Megatron does sound almost like his usual self," Red Alert noted. "He is rather deeply voiced for a sparkling."

"MY LIEGE!" Starscream shrieked, hands flying to his face. "WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!"

Ratchet hit the Seeker. "Oh, if you possessed a deep voice. Or at least one that didn't break our audios."

Starscream cringed away. "I'm sorry! I can't help my voice! I-" He caught himself mid-excuse. "Why am I apologising to you? You're an Autobot!"

"Well done, _genius_," Ratchet snarled. "Looks like _you_ get to take care of the precious _Lord_ during his sparkling turn."

Megatron turned and glared at Starscream.

"Oh," the Seeker whimpered. "But I don't know how-"

"Too bad. If he dies, sucks to the Decepticon cause, I suppose."

"You're so _evil_," Starscream hissed. "Why aren't _you_ a Decepticon?"

"Because I'm not stupid."

Starscream, bristling, was preparing to attack the CMO when Ironhide, of all mechs, intervened.

"Why don't we just calm down? As much as I would _like _to offline you, Optimus expressively asked all of us not to."

"Where is Prime?" Starscream spat. "I have a few _words_ I'd like to share with him."

"In there," Ironhide pointed.

As if on cue, Optimus peered around the door. "Boo!"

Starscream fainted.

Megatron scowled, stood up, and kicked him.

Red Alert noted this with interest. "He seems to be at an older age than the other sparklings."

Ratchet huffed. "He was fairly advanced _anyway_, but I concede your point."

Megatron proceeded to climb onto the prone Seeker and jump on his cockpit.

Starscream shrieked, jolting back into reality. "I'm sorry! O-"

He caught sight of mini-Megatron standing on top of him with a ferocious look about him and nearly fainted again.

"You're so _useless_," Ratchet growled.

Megatron huffed, and rattled away in sparkling.

"Megsy?"

Megatron turned at the cry, and saw Optimus in Ratchet's office. "Oppy!"

They ran to meet each other, in one of those slow motion moments with a field full of gently waving foliage.

Not really.

Megatron hopped off of Starscream and waited for Optimus to speed across to him.

"Megssssssssssyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Optimus squealed, and glomped him with great enthusiasm.

"Ugh," Megatron grumped, not bothering to get up.

Optimus lay on top of him happily. "Lubb you, Megsy."

"Gross," Megatron sulked, trying not to show that he loved it really.

Starscream was currently twitching silently.

"Is he alright?" Red Alert was worried.

Ratchet wasn't. "Who cares?"

Ironhide sighed. "I'm going to take Jetfire to do something _interesting_. "

"Wonder what..." Ratchet raised an optic ridge.

"Well, at least things exploding will be a distraction from P-I-N-K-ness."

"That's a point. Go and check on Wheeljack. Make sure you accidentally hit him as you enquire about his health, and again when you enquire about the progress on the device. And _again_ when you convey my personal greetings."

"My pleasure," Ironhide grinned, trundling off to pick up Jetfire.

"And _you -_" Ratchet wheeled around to point at a quiet Starscream. "_You-_"

"LET GO OF THAT!"

Ratchet turned to see Ironhide cradling Jetfire in one arm and struggling to remove a miniature saw from the sparkling's strong grasp. "Why did you give him that?!"

"I didn't! He rootled through one of your drawers!"

"WHAT?! None of my drawers have such little protection! All of them are sparkling-proof, being as it is that I work with such children!"

"I can't be bothered to take offence, so I'll assume that you mean the twins." Ironhide finally wrestled the blade off of Jetfire, only to stab himself with it, multiple points digging into his hand. "SWWOWWCH!"

Ratchet sighed. "Sadly, no. If it were _just_ the twins, this base would be relatively simple to handle."

Ironhide swept past.

"Um, sir, perhaps I should look at your hand," Red Alert offered.

"Optimus, you coming?" Ironhide decided to ignore all things Ratchet-related.

The mechling looked up. "'hide! Me see you!"

"And aren't you clever?" Ironhide asked.

Optimus batted his leg. "Up!"

As Ironhide lifted the Prime with the arm not holding Jetfire, Megatron snarled and jumped at him.

There was a slight silence as they all watched the Decepticon Commander dangle off of Ironhide's arm.

"...Megatron?" Ironhide began. "What are you doing?"

Megatron snarled through a mouthful of armour and readjusted himself to bite some wiring.

"THAT'S PAINFUL, YOU BRUTE!"

Optimus whimpered. Instantly, Megatron let go, and Ironhide sighed with relief.

Megatron looked up suspiciously. "Give Oppy back."

"Ehhh..." Ironhide placed Optimus back on the floor.

Megatron shoved the Prime gently behind him. "My Oppy."

"Right." Ironhide decided to leave this mess up to Ratchet. "I'm going."

"Sir, your arm! Let me-"

Ironhide had never moved so fast.

Red Alert watched the mechlings curiously.

Optimus was staring up at Megatron with optics as wide as a hippopotamus' backside.

Megatron was pouting slightly.

"They're communicating over their bond," Ratchet explained, seeing his junior frown.

"_Fascinating_. Did they always?"

"...Megatron was older than this when Optimus was sparked. But yes, they did."

"Amazing. I wonder what it is like to have a brother."

"They always had a strong bond," Ratchet sighed. "It is a shame they have been torn apart."

"Megsy _small_," Optimus said suddenly. "Ratchy, why Megsy small?"

"Because he's younger than he was before," the CMO explained. "You're used to big Megatron."

"Big Megsy better," Optimus sighed. "Small Megsy grouchy."

Megatron rolled his optics and clouted his brother gently.

Optimus giggled.

"Starscream, I have a question." Ratchet gestured to the Seeker, who slowly made his way over.

"Is it a painful question?"

"What do you take me for?"

Starscream mumbled something quietly.

"I suggest you take care of Megatron whilst Wheeljack sorts this problem out."

"Wheeljack?!" Starscream shrieked. "We'll be here for a fragging _eternity-_"

Megatron hit him right behind one of his leg joints.

The Seeker whined, lifting the leg and looking very sorry for himself. "Sorry, my liege."

The mechling pointed sternly. "Do not swear near Oppy."

"I didn't intend to, my lord. I am very sorry."

"Bow before me," Megatron commanded, frowning thunderously.

Red Alert gaped as the Seeker did so, gracefully kneeling and lowering his helm to the floor, wings folding back extravagantly.

"Exhibitionist," Megatron scowled, but patted Starscream's helm.

"I really don't understand," Red Alert sighed.

Ratchet had given up trying to. "He was never _quite_ that demanding before."

Starscream was now pounding his helm into the floor. "This. Is. _Insane_. Why am I bowing to a sparkling?"

Megatron calmly stood on the mech's helm, then stabbed his claws into one of Starscream's wings brutally. "I be _Megatron_!"

"He did say that once or twice," Ratchet remembered, doing nothing to help the Seeker.

Starscream hissed quietly, trying to hold in a very loud screech.

"Who this?" Megatron asked Ratchet, pointing at the Seeker. "I knows him."

"That's Starscream, Megatron. You can do anything you like to him."

"Really? Anything?"

There was something sinister about the near-perfect utterances of the sparkling.

"No!" Starscream pleaded. "Ratchet, if you have _any_ mercy-"

"You swore near Oppy!" Megatron snarled, kicking a wing. "Be silent!"

Optimus himself was watching proceedings quietly. "...Megsy?"

"Yes, Oppy?"

"No hurt Starscream?" Optimus asked. "He good."

Megatron huffed. "You too nice."

Prime blinked at him happily. "You mean."

"Only f'you, Oppy." Megatron jumped off of Starscream and pointed menacingly. "Starcream comes now."

"Star_cream_? _Star**s**cream_," the Seeker hissed, wings bristling.

"Quiet," Megatron commanded. "Be lucky that you not hurt."

Starscream sighed. "Yes, my liege."

Megatron didn't miss the spiteful look he sent at Optimus.

The mech was swiftly slapped, quite roughly too.

Starscream briefly shook his helm in abject misery. "Sorry, master."

"Not me," Megatron scowled. "Oppy."

"No," Starscream growled. "I draw the line at apologising to _Prime_."

"Say sorry to Oppy." The sparkling narrowed his optics.

Optimus crawled over. "But Megsy, Starscream did nothing."

Starscream hissed maliciously, the action making Optimus' antennae quiver uncertainly.

Megatron stepped in front of his brother. "_Bad_ Starscream."

The Seeker snarled. "I am not standing for this. I will not be ordered around by a _sparkling_."

"You not standing," Megatron reminded. "You on floor, where you should be."

Starscream, who had been about to get up, whimpered. "Oh, how is it I feel so reduced?"

Megatron turned to Ratchet. "Starscream always so useless?"

"All the time," the CMO smirked.

"Useless Starscream," Megatron shook his helm disgustedly. "Come."

And with that, he simply wandered off, Optimus toddling with him.

Optimus stumbled. "Whoops-!"

Megatron sighed and gave him his hand, and they toddled away together.

Starscream hastily scrambled to his feet. "Wait, my liege! You shouldn't just go off-"

"Get on floor," Megatron ordered, not even turning around. "You less important and below us. You no deserve height like Ratchy."

Starscream wearily sank to the ground. "Happy?"

"Better," Megatron nodded. "You learn. Maybe stand up one day."

Starscream snarled at Ratchet, who was busy snickering quietly and recording the moment.

"Oh, your pride must be in _pieces_," the CMO cackled.

Megatron's helm snapped round to Optimus, and they held a brief conversation over their spark-bond before the elder spoke. "...Ratchy! Oppy tired."

"Berths are everywhere, Megatron."

Optimus helm-butted a door open and attempted to climb up onto the berth.

Megatron sighed, and lifted him up. "Stubby Oppy."

"Lubb you still, Megsy."

"You best," his brother replied, ascending onto the berth himself. "Always?"

"Always and forever and ever," Optimus promised.

"...Maybe me love you too," Megatron confessed. "Starscream!"

The Seeker looked up resignedly. "Yes, my liege?"

"Oppy go recharge."

"I'm not singing him a _lullaby_," Starscream hissed.

"Definitely not," Megatron frowned. "Be nightmare inducing."

Starscream smacked his helm into the door frame. "Your _orders_, my liege?"

"Go and do something," the sparkling replied. "Me no need you."

Starscream felt a searing pain lance through his spark. "R-really?"

"No. You go. _Go_!"

The Seeker skulked out of the room and lay down on the floor outside.

There was silence for a minute.

"Oh, get in here," Megatron snapped. "Stop moping."

Starscream didn't even care that he probably looked very _sad_ as he scurried in. "...Master?"

"You may lie here," Megatron declared graciously, patting the berth. "But no disturb Oppy."

"Of course not, my liege." Starscream settled on the spot indicated, being careful not to nudge the already snoozling Prime.

"Good Starscream." The mechling patted him.

"You're very demeaning, my liege."

"You need it," Megatron replied. "'sides, Starscream useless without Megsy."

Starscream scowled. "That's an outrageous lie-!"

"_Silly_ Starscream," Megatron sighed, shaking his helm and sitting down in front of him. "_Silly_."

"I'm not useless-!" The Seeker whined.

"'Course not," the mini-Commander declared. "That's why you here."

Starscream sulked. "I could leave if I wanted to."

"Go, then." Megatron waved at the door.

Starscream considered it (he really did, even turning to view the potential _freedom) _but eventually huffed quietly.

"Useless no going?"

"No..."

"And why?"

"Useless belongs _here_, my liege," Starscream realised.

Megatron persisted. "And where here?"

"By your side."

Megatron thought about this. "...You a slave?"

"Sometimes it feels like it."

"Well, should be behind me, then. Not by side."

"Sorry, my liege."

"S'okay. We get there 'ventually. ...Now shut up. Oppy recharge."

"Of course. Sorry, master."

"Said shut up!" Megatron hit him.

"Ow!"

"Silence!"

Starscream cringed. How could a sparkling be so terrifying?

* * *

Jazz sat quietly inside the brig.

It wasn't meant to be this way.

He didn't _do_ the brig. It just wasn't... _Jazz_.

Prowl watched him, unnoticed. He had entered the room, but there had been no response.

If Jazz had been feeling _Jazzy_, he wouldn't have cared about being in the here. The spy would be blaring loud- yet tasteful- music, hacking into security systems, leaving witty puns on Prowl's computer, messing with Ratchet's mental state (easily, _easily_ done) by leaving him messages which told the CMO he was needed _urgently, _maybe even giving the twins ideas (always gratefully received)_. _In other words, _causing_ joyful chaos.

Instead, the very glue that held the Autobots together sat on the berth, twiddling all of his fingers simultaneously.

Prowl finally announced his presence. "You alright, Jazz?"

"PROWL!" Jazz shrieked, so _glad_ of the company that he forgot to call him by a deranged nickname.

The second cast him an odd glance. "You're not, are you?"

"No," Jazz whined. "No."

Sunny and Sides- looking amazingly clean- bumbled in.

"Prowlie! Tired!" Sunny shouted.

"See the berth? Use the berth," Prowl sighed.

The twins threw themselves repeatedly at the object, slamming into the very edge each time (forgetting to pull themselves up).

"PROWLIE!" Sides wailed. "TIRED!"

Jazz transferred them to the berth, and they curled up together with a thankful burble.

Prowl came to sit by him.

Something, Jazz's processor mused, _something_ must be very wrong with _something _for Prowl to actually be this close. Willingly.

"What's wrong, Jazz?"

"I can't say," Jazz drooped.

"Why not?"

Jazz's helm flicked around, and he lowered his voice to a furtive whisper. "Because it's a _secret_!"

Prowl contemplated the mech beside him. This was not Jazz. He resolved to get to the bottom of it; this base wasn't the same without him. And, if he was being utterly truthful, he missed his _friend_. "When did you learn of this secret?"

"Oh, I've _suspected_," Jazz hissed excitedly. "Have done for a _loooong_ time."

"But your suspicions have been confirmed?"

"Yes, yes, yes," the silver mech nodded frantically.

"...Did someone tell you? Make you promise not to tell?"

"No, no. But I can't say _anything_. 'cause there'll be some _serious_ pain. And Prowl, when I say serious... I mean _serious._"

"Pain for who? For you?"

"Oh, yes, undoubtedly," Jazz cringed. "Not just me, though. Not just little Jazz! For _everyone_. And when I say everyone... I mean _everyone_."

Sunny wriggled contentedly. "Evrywun dies."

"Thank you, Sunstreaker." Prowl turned back to Jazz. "So if you tell _anyone_, it's going to hurt us all?"

"_They _will hurt us all," Jazz sighed. "The secret won't. _They_ will. Or maybe just the one. I don't know! Why me? Why me? Why?"

Prowl placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Jazz. How did you find out?"

"You know I'm a spy, right? I'm a spy," Jazz explained. "Sometimes I'm really good, but I'm too noisy. But when I'm seriously being a spy, I rule!"

"I know you do," Prowl confirmed. "You're probably the best we have."

"I was _spying_," Jazz mouthed. "I was _spying_, and I saw them. I saw him wi-" He broke off, mortified. "Can't say! Can't!"

"It's okay, Jazz. I wouldn't tell _anyone_."

"But one of them _knows! _Always!"

"Are they a spy, too?"

"No, no, no. Too scary and domineering," Jazz whispered. "Wouldn't be good as a spy, no."

"Of course," Prowl nodded. "How silly of me to forget."

Jazz gasped. "You've seen it too, haven't you! You _know_!"

"...No, Jazz. I do-"

The spy's face crumpled. "Oh. I thought..."

Prowl felt very guilty. So he lied. For the first time in a _very_ long time. "Of course I know. It's very obvious when you know what to look for."

Jazz brightened. "I thought you would! You're _Prowl_! You know everything!"

"You don't need to be in the brig, Jazz. Come on." Prowl gave him a recharging Sideswipe and pushed him out of the door after collecting Sunny.

The saboteur looked slightly nervous. "But-"

"It's okay. I know too. You're not alone anymore."

Jazz broke into a huge smile and hugged him. "Oh, _Prowlie_!"

"Thank you." At the same time as patting the small Autobot awkwardly, Prowl thanked any kind of deity _existing_ that he had managed to retrieve Jazz from the land of Insanity. "Why don't we go and see Optimus?"

Jazz bounced along beside him, chattering happily.

Prowl determined that when this was all over, he'd work out what this secret was. It wouldn't be too hard; he had some information. "What did Ratchet say to you?"

Jazz thought back.

_Ratchet, firmly holding the mech under one arm, kicked open a door and sat him on the berth._

_"Stay **there**," he commanded._

_Jazz interlaced his fingers nervously. "Sorry, Ratch... what have I done, exactly? I can't remember, and I'd really like to go, but that's a very nice sharp looking... instrument you have there?"_

_"Sit back down," Ratchet hissed, wielding the medical tool. "Or this develops yet another **use**."_

_"But I haven't done anythi- OWWW!"_

_"Don't be a sparkling," Ratchet sighed, removing the probe from his mouth._

_"Why did you do that?" Jazz wailed. "It hurt!"_

_"To make you shut up."_

_"Well, it hurt!"_

_"And it clearly didn't work, either. Curses."_

_Jazz tried not to fidget too much as Ratchet poked and prodded him. "Tickles."_

_"Sure it does."_

_" Can I go? Are you done? Finished? Concluded? At the end? Wrapped it all up? Drawing to a clos-"_

_"There's nothing wrong with you," Ratchet concluded._

_"So I can go!"_

_"...Except for the side-effects which you have induced upon yourself from stress."_

_"I'm Jazz!" Jazz laughed. "I don't have stress...?"_

_"I want you to remain here tonight," Ratchet announced._

_"Oh, no thank you-"_

_"You **will** stay here."_

_"B-but-"_

_"Jazz..." Ratchet grasped him by the shoulders. "Whatever it is that you're worried about, you must stop. It's damaging your health."_

_Jazz lowered his helm, downcast._

_"...And I need my favourite idiot at full capacity."_

_"Y-you do?"_

_"I do."_

_Jazz sighed and swung his legs up onto the berth. "Okeydokes."_

_Ratchet resolved to talk to Prowl about this. Something was still not right._

Jazz popped out of the memory. "He tried to help."

"Of course he did. He's the CMO."

"No," Jazz frowned. "_Really _help."

Prowl watched him. "Ratchet was _nice_?"

"Yeaaah... then I tried to escape mid-night and he kind of caught me and stuck me in the brig."

"Did he?"

"Well, after the fortieth attempt I guess near-on everyone would have lost their patience."

"Forty times? He waited up for you and sent you back to your room _forty_ times? ...He seriously _is _dedication."

Jazz burst into a delighted grin and raced off down the corridor. "I'M COMING, RATCHY!"

* * *

(Put on your safety gear, Transfans. It is that time again.)

Wheeljack hummed happily, twiddling a screwdriver as he regarded The Device.

He delicately inserted the tool into a tiny-

"Wheeljack! What are you doing?" Ironhide burst in.

Wheeljack squeaked, thrusting the tool into the wrong slot.

It blew up. Again.

(By now, you know very well what an explosion is like.

They're generally very hot, very loud, kind of smokey and firey, with some pressure blasting outwards from the epicentre, and Michael Bay loves them.

Michael Bay would therefore like Wheeljack.

Michael Bay likes to replace Transformer screen-time with explosions.

Therefore, Bayformers Wheeljack would just be one giant cloud of continuous explosions.

In this author's opinion, Michael Bay should spend less money on explosives and more money on animating MEGASC- I mean, more Transformy interaction time.

Michael Bay clearly took the fan plea of "We want more interaction" and mis-interpreted it into "We want more _action_".

Not that I mind Optimus kicking all kinds of aft in the middle of a forest, but Michael Bay should really think about the _inter_action idea. Mind you, so should Kurtzman and Orci.

Excuse this rant; it's highly inappropriate. I love them all really. Back to Wheeljack, Michael Bay's best friend.)

Ironhide, having pre-empted the discharge, sighed, and left the safety of his door-refuge. "Don't bother telling Ratchet."

"Why?" Wheeljack giggled, wafting the black smoke away.

"He already knows."

_"I'M GOING TO KILL-!"_

"How can he be here already?" Wheeljack marvelled.

"He isn't; it's the acoustics again. If I were you, I'd hide."

"Why?"

"Your stupidity amazes me."

_"SOMEONE'S GOING TO **DIE**!"_

"Sounds like Megatron's happy, too."

Wheeljack patted himself down. "I have all of my limbs!"

"Not for long," Ironhide muttered.

Jetfire giggled quietly, surprisingly undisturbed.

"He likes me!" Wheeljack cried.

"No," Ironhide corrected. "He's laughing at how deranged and dead you are."

"He's the _pink _one," Wheeljack replied.

"Pink." Jetfire's antennae drooped.

Ironhide blasted the engineer immediately. "FOOL!"

Jetfire frowned. "_Pink._"

"It's okay. You won't be for long."

"_There_," Jetfire ordered, pointing to the device.

Ironhide placed him beside it.

The sparkling looked, inspecting it curiously and thoroughly as Megatron stormed in, Optimus in his arms.

"I GROW TIRED OF THIS INCOMPETENCE!"

Sparkling Starscream bounded in behind him, twittering angrily.

Ratchet stalked in, Red Alert quietly following. "_This is too much_."

Truly was his Wrath visible in speech alone.

Prowl and his band of vagabonds entered. "There's no _logical _reason as to why this isn't resolved!"

Jazz grinned. "_RAAAATCHEEET_! ...I've completely forgotten what I was going to say."

"Except for Wheeljack." Arcee scowled, heralding the arrival of herself.

Hot Rod pushed his way in, Bumblebee sitting on his helm. "I am... HOT ROD!"

Megatron didn't even register this pathetic use of his Line, so pathetic it was. He glared at Wheeljack across the now relatively crowded room. "Starscream, show him some _pain_."

The Seeker yapped, and zipped in and out of feet until he found Wheeljack- and also Jetfire. "_Jetfiiiiire-!_"

The shuttle turned, beaming back at him, then returned his attentions to the Device.

Starscream frowned, climbed up onto Wheeljack's helm, and whistled. "Master?"

Megatron turned and scowled. "What are you doing? Wheeljack's the one you are sitting on, the one covered in filth."

"Euuugh!" Starscream cringed, trying not to touch the engineer. "What if poof is fixed?"

"...Excuse me?"

"Poof! Me and Jetfire fix," Starscream declared.

"Sure, whatever- don't _jump_!"

Starscream slowly climbed down Wheeljack, sliding down his leg like a fireman's pole. "Wheeeeeeee..." He sprang over to Jetfire. "We do this _easy_."

Jetfire nodded and gestured at a loose wire. Starscream re-connected it, at the same time spotting a sparking chip.

"There," he pointed.

Jetfire leaned over and fiddled with it.

"We too good," Starscream muttered modestly as the Device began to glow.

They high-fived.

Wheeljack, hearing a slight humming, turned around, and kicked the technology.

"Oh," Jetfire mumbled as something rattled.

"Crud," Starscream swore, pushing Jetfire behind him. "Wheeljack useless."

"What the Pit have you done _now_, Starscream?!" Megatron pushed his way over, and picked them both up (Optimus being left in the capable luminous arms of Ratchet).

"Me did nothing," Starscream complained. "Wheeljack useless."

Megatron handed Jetfire over to Ironhide. "Of _course_."

The device shrieked, and pulsed. The light was blinding.

As it slowly faded, Ironhide looked around; hopefully, _all_ would be normal.

Naturally, this was not the case.

Starscream, lying across the top of Megatron, whimpered. "Something isn't right here."

Megatron eyed the Seeker hungrily. "Oh, yeaaas..."

Starscream patted his body down worriedly. "What's happened?"

"It has to be an improvement."

"STOP TOYING WITH ME! WHAT'S WRONG?!"

Megatron rolled over, pinning Starscream beneath him. "Run, Autobots. I'll... _restrain_ Starscream."

The snigger that followed this was unparalleled.

Arcee's sharp optics bulged slightly, catching on. "Holy _frag_!"

"This is... truly indescribable," Megatron sighed.

"Stop **eyeing** me!" Starscream shrieked, wriggling.

"I'll do what I like!"

Starscream tried to cover himself with his hands- and that is when he realised. "NOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

"Yeaaaaaass..."

"No, no-" Starscream felt his slightly raised chassis, his smoother, more rounded armour, fitting snugly- "NOOO! I CAN'T BE A FEMME!"

Megatron huffed. "Do shut up."

Starscream's optics darted about the room. "Surely, someone else- anyone-"

The Autobots all winced for him (or her), except Ratchet.

"No, Starscream. _You_ are the only gender-bender here."

"_Man! I feel like a woman-!_"

"Inappropriate, Bumblebee," Optimus admonished. "Starscream, um... until we can sort this out, be sure we'll offer you anything we can-"

Two shrieks interrupted him at once.

"SO FEMMES ARE TO BE TREATED DIFFERENTLY?!"

"YOU'LL OFFER ME _NOTHING, AUTOBOT!_" Starscream screeched. "Sordid ideas stop _NOW!_"

There was a pause.

"I have plenty of _ideas_." Megatron mused. "So little time. Let's go."

Starscream wailed as he was grabbed roughly and thrown over a shoulder. "No! I need to fix this!"

"That's what our esteemed Autobot engineer is for," Megatron smirked, clearly pointing a claw-gun at Wheeljack and squeezing an imaginary trigger.

"This isn't FAIR!"

"Starscream, _Starscream_! Don't complain so! It is your duty to your entire _race_!"

"Wha- what is?"

"Didn't you know that there are very few femmes left?" Megatron teased. "Why, our race is _dying_ out."

Arcee twitched, but managed to control herself, instead blasting a hole in the wall with her scarily powerful gun.

"I don't understand," Starscream whimpered.

"You're so useless," Megatron snickered. "Never mind. I'll teach you a thing or two."

Arcee screwed her optics shut tightly. "Images, bad, they're bad."

Hot Rod collapsed, and Bumblebee shoved both palms into his optics as if that would ease his pain.

"Did I miss something?" Optimus asked.

Megatron had already disappeared.

"MEGATRON!" Ratchet bellowed. "GET BACK HERE! STARSCREAM MIGHT-"

Megatron appeared instantly. "Problem?"

Starscream clawed at his back unhappily. "Put me down!"

Ratchet- irritatingly slowly- wandered over. "I need to scan him- I mean, her. Which do you prefer?"

"I'm going to _tear_ your _face_ off," Starscream snarled, launching himself at the medic.

"That's _my_ comeback," Optimus sulked.

"No, no, _no_," Megatron flapped his arms before hauling the Seeker away. "No, Starscream. Be nice to Ratchet."

"Why _should _I?!" Starscream screeched, still trying to kill the Autobot now just beyond his reach.

"Because I will take away your masculinit- oh, forgot _again_. Your femin-"

Starscream howled with fury. "I AM NOT A FEMME!"

"Well, your voice hasn't changed; maybe you were one already."

Maybe the machine responded to the shrill scream of the enraged Seeker, or maybe it decided to end the misery.

It grated, some inner part coming to life, and blasting the Decepticon.

When the light receded, Starscream was looking decidedly mechly again.

Megatron let him go, and Starscream patted himself down, then crumpled with great relief. "Thank _Primus_. Thank _Wheeljack_. T-"

His gratitude was cut short as a foot impacted with his abdomen, slamming him into the wall.

He lay there, slightly dazed. It had been an unusual day, after all.

Megatron snarled. "I think we should be left _alone_."

Prowl quietly gestured. "Let's move."

Ratchet and Ironhide grasped Optimus by an arm each and propelled him away.

"But freedom is-"

"No, Optimus. Exception."

Megatron watched the Autobots scurry away, satisfyingly fast. "So, Starscream. It's been too long."

"Yes, my liege." Starscream winced, picking himself up.

"I have _missed _this," Megatron sighed, kicking him again.

Starscream gritted his fangs as he hit the wall harshly. "Hurrah, my lord."

"Why don't you sound enthusiastic?" Another kick.

Starscream coughed, curling up reflexively. "Yes, m-my liege!"

"We're going to have lots of fun, you and I. Make up for lost time." Megatron decided another kick to the abdomen would be amusing.

"Yes, master! Kick me again!"

That was unexpected. "What?"

"Kick me!" Starscream screeched. "Hard!"

Megatron twitched. "Really?"

The Seeker decided to vent his rage through sheer torrent-loads of sarcasm. "Yes-! I missed the pain and the impending doom and the intense _pleasure_ of you giving me said pain! Kick me!"

"Well," Megatron blinked, then grinned. "I always knew you were a masochist."

"Of course I am," Starscream scowled. "Only for you, my liege."

"Are you going to beg?"

"_Make _me."

"My pleasure."

* * *

Ratchet swore viciously. "Optimus, mute your audios."

"Why?"

"_Trust_ me."

"Okay."

"Have you done it?" Ratchet asked.

"Yes," Prime replied instantly.

"LIAAAR!"

"Ow! Fine!" Optimus sulkily carried out the order.

Ironhide narrowed his optics. "Jetfire, you too."

"Wh- consider it done."

"Red Alert! Bumblebee! Hot Rod! Mute your audios!"

"Yes, sir."

"_Right on!_"

"My hearing is so acute, I can hear even when my audio processors are offlined."

"Sunny, Sides," Prowl ordered.

"But, Prowlie-"

"You-"

"_Now,_" Prowl hissed.

"HARDER, MY LIEGE!"

The second cringed.

"It could be perfectly innocent," Ironhide tried.

"What could?" Sunny asked.

Prowl cuffed him. "Audios! Now!"

There was silence for a moment or two.

"Yes, Ironhide," Ratchet declared. "Of _course_ it's innocent."

"I'LL _GIVE_ IT TO YOU HOWEVER I PLEASE... SUDDENLY I FEEL LIKE A LITTLE MORE _FORCE_ IS REQUIRED!"

"Did you activate that soundproofing thing of Wheeljack's?"

"Obviously not," Ratchet replied. "What if it explodes?"

Prowl sighed. "Do you honestly want Sam hearing _again_? He might catch on this time."

"Good point," Ironhide concurred. "I'm not justifying those two for a second spree of _fun_."

Wheeljack huffed. "Anyone would think I'm a walking advert for exploding-ness."

There was another pause.

//_Go somewhere far away... the human sector,_// Ratchet ordered over half of their company.

//_But Ratch-!_//

//_Gooooooo_,// Ratchet snarled.

"HIT ME THER- OW! NOT _THERE_! YOU-"

"Oh, shut up, _minion_."

Megatron was definitely smiling. They could hear it.

Deleted Scene :D

_"Jazz..." Ratchet grasped him by the shoulders. "Whatever it is that you're worried about, you must stop. It's damaging your health."_

_Jazz lowered his helm, downcast._

_"...And I need my favourite idiot at full capacity."_

_"Oh, RATCHET-!" Jazz wailed, throwing himself at the medic._

_"What the PIT?! GET OFF!"_

_"Oh... I wasn't supposed to do that, was I?"_

_"No. You're supposed to be mentally deranged. Try **harder**, and don't touch me."_

_Prowl sighed, ending the take. "Jazz, think sad thoughts."_

_"It's too hard! I don't have any!"_

_"...Then think of Ratchet beating on you."_

_Jazz nodded firmly. "I can **do** this."_

_"You'd better. This is our seventeenth take."_

_"Try and focus, Jazz. Don't let that one line catch you out."_

_"But the way he says it, it's like he cares!" Jazz cried._

_Ratchet huffed angrily. "It's because I can act, Jazz."_

_"So you don't care?"_

_"Not at all."_

_"Right. I can do this!"_

_"You'd **better.**_"

* * *

The device shrieked, and pulsed. The light was blinding.

As it slowly faded, Ironhide looked around; hopefully, _all_ would be normal.

Naturally, this was not the case.

Starscream, lying across the top of Megatron, whimpered. "Something isn't right here."

Megatron snarled. "Get off me."

"...My liege, you sound different...?"

Megatron roughly shoved the Seeker away from him and stood up.

Starscream, from his position on the floor, twitched. "M-my liege, there's a problem..."

Optimus fainted.

"What is it, Starscream?"

"...Y-you're a- you'll shoot the messenger!"

"You aren't making sense."

"You'll kill me!" Starscream shrieked. "I'm not saying!"

Megatron huffed.

Ratchet decided to _step_ in. "You're a femme. The device has converted you."

"And _damn_, am I a sexy one," Megatron rumbled, checking himself out and kicking Starscream. "At least Arcee and I can discuss... _ladies_ things."

Arcee choked and fell to the floor.

"What say you, _useless_?"

"Of course, my lor- I mean, my lady?" Starscream slowly stood up, brushing himself down, and checking out Megatron himself. "Say, my... um, lady-leige. Something isn't right."

"What would that be, _useless_?"

"You haven't gotten a femme's aft!"Starscream winked and slapped the afore-mentioned body part.

"Don't be useless," Megatron snarled, punching him.

"_Owwwwww_..."

Megatron sniffed haughtily, glaring around the room for a moment. "Suddenly, I have just come across my original opinion that I don't think my aft is femmely enough."

No one dared disagree or comment upon this.

Megatron frowned, concentrating, at which point his aft began to expand.

"Booty_licious_!" Jazz cried excitedly, then realised he was being enthusiastic about Megatron.

That calmed him down quickly.

Starscream whistled appreciatively. "I _say, _my lady_._"

Megatron growled. "You kinky _beast_. Down, I command you."

"I _am_ yours to command," Starscream purred.

"You handsome devil, you."

"Why, _thank_ you, my lady."

"Even though _you_ should be the femme right now."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, I'm Megatron. I'm _always_ on top. Not to mention that's what's in the script."

"Why should you be on top?!" Starscream wondered.

"...I am _Megatron_. Do you need me to say any more?"

Red Alert looked very pale, even as Bumblebee crashed to the floor in front of him, pawing his optics.

The aft grew larger.

"That's a point. Do you need to change your name?"

"I AM MEGATRON!"

"Well, are you? Shouldn't you be Megatrella? Or Megabelle? Or maybe-"

"Quiet, Starscream. Or I'll think of some for _you._"

The Seeker fell silent for about ten seconds. "Wouldn't be the same, anyway. It's a one-name thing."

"It's my _personal_ touch," Megatron snarled.

"I don't think so," Starscream huffed. "Anyway, you wouldn't be on top, even _if_ we engaged in such activities. Not that we will. Ever."

"Silence, boy."

The aft suddenly expanded alarmingly, slamming the Seeker into the wall.

"Owww...!"

"Grr," Megatron growled.

Arcee nearly fainted with disgust. "This is _so_ not happening."

"Why not? That's what you like, isn't it?" Ironhide managed to speak.

"Not with MEGATRON AS A FEMME!" Arcee shrieked. "That's just _dirty_! Mech on mech is HOT!"

"Hey, Ratchet," Ironhide suddenly sniggered. "Come here, lover-boy."

The CMO swaggered over. "Yes, babe?"

"Wanna have some fun?" Ironhide wrapped an arm around Ratchet's shoulders.

"I'll give you the time of your _life_."

Arcee howled, clawing at her optics. "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

She ran, stumbling, and shrieking obscenities.

Ratchet gave Ironhide a nod of approval and a high-five. "Nice."

* * *

I hope your eyes aren't bleeding too badly. o_O My fingers are nothing but stumps, but I'm happy. It is _done_.

Oh, GAWD, OH MAN, IT WAS HUGE!

Yeah, that's what _sh-_ I mean, _Starscream_ said.

There's not going to be an update for a while, as I'm off on holiday. I'll write whilst I'm away, though.

I'll miss you all.

Anyway, if you enjoyed, please drop me a review- you'll make these stubby fingers worthwhile. o_O

PS. Shameful self-promotion returns: do check out The Hunt for Prime, located on the beloved Clumsy Peg's page.

You _know_ what will happen if you don't.


	20. Chapter 20

:D Readers, it's been a long time!

However, you'll be pleased to learn that whilst I haven't been updating, I _have_ been passing my exams. Brill.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to the reviewers of Chapter 19:

Splatter Fall (See, you're there. FIRST on the list :D), LunaeShark, Httw, JuJill, Kittisbat, SKIDDY, Captain Arianna Trouble, -CodeDelta-, SparkieGoesHuzzah, 9aza, RzSpeeder, Clumsy Peg, Kotomi Miyamura, and Prowlie. Yes, Prowlie.

I actually _am_ listening to you beautiful people, and do seriously love to hear what you're thinking.

D: Upsettingly, I haven't gotten round to responding to you because I'm retarded with time-management, but no matter!

Here is a refreshingly short Chapter Twenty. Prepare yourself for utter excitement, yeaaasss.

PS: Sunny and Sides will henceforth be referred to as golden and silver Corvettes, because a) it makes sense, and b) they're damned good. :3

* * *

Ratchet wasn't happy.

He decided to express himself by having a rant.

After a furious circle around his prey, he began. "You are _useless_! Why would you do this- to yourself?"

Indignantly, Starscream began to reply.

"SILENCE!"

Flinching, the Seeker returned his gaze to the floor.

"I am blaming _you_ because you _asked_ to be kicked- yes, we all heard. Don't even try to look righteous-"

"But Ratchet," Starscream pleaded, "It's the only way to get him to stop!"

"I really don't follow."

"Raooragh," Starscream groaned, trying to find the words.

"Sorry; I don't speak useless."

With a glare, the Decepticon pouted. "Does Megatron _ever_ listen to me?"

"I'm not your counsellor, _fool_. I wouldn't know- I only ever see you both failing."

"Yes, well, he doesn't. Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that I must speak in opposites. It usually works."

"_Usually_?" Red Alert was interested. "In what cases doesn't it?"

Starscream's frown deepened. "That _boy._"

"Oh," Ratchet snorted. "Can't think why you'd differ in opinion over a mere _fleshling_."

"I see no reason to kill unnecessarily," Starscream sniffed. "The boy, however-"

"What is it exactly that makes you think I care?"

"...You're a medic?"

"WRONG," Ratchet hissed, suddenly wrench-clonking the Seeker across the helm. "I am the _CMO_. I do not _need_ to care, as I am-"

"-sooooo cool."

Ratchet didn't even have to look around to see Jazz leaning in a deliciously smooth manner against the door. "Precisely, Jazz."

"Ah, poor Screamer. Having to face the consequences of being a masochist?"

Starscream snarled, fist clenching. "I am _not_ a masochist."

"Uh, yes you are."

"I am not!"

"Why else do you stay with your abusive boyfriend?"

Starscream screeched, launching himself at the saboteur. "I do _not_ have a boyfriend!"

Ratchet couldn't really be bothered to do anything, so he lay down on the recently vacated berth, hands behind his helm. "Red Alert, go and tell Megatron and Optimus that our favourite fails are at it again."

"Don't lie, Screamer!" Jazz rolled under another berth.

"I am not _lying_!"

"Liar."

"Come out _here_ and say that," the Seeker hissed. "...Short-aft."

There was a pause before Jazz shot at him with a wild howl. "I am not SHORT!"

Starscream punched him. "_Liar._"

"I am not a liar!"

"Sure, sure."

"_You're_ the liar!" Jazz raged.

Starscream refuted this. "I am as truthful as they come!"

* * *

_A couple of minutes previously..._

Megatron huffed. "Do I have to?"

"Of _course_ you do," Prime replied.

"Ugh," the Decepticon grunted. "Why?"

"Don't give me that. Just do it."

"But... this is so childish!"

Sam didn't look very happy either. "It's the only way I'm going anywhere with you."

Megatron scowled, but slashed his claws delicately in an X across his chassis. "Cross my spark, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye." He paused. "I don't even _have_ an eye to stick a needle in. Not that it would do much, because I am MEGATRON!"

"Really?" Sam was intrigued. "Even if I stuck a needle right into your optic, it wouldn't do anything?"

"Why would it? It is inferior, like _everything _but me."

Prime coughed.

"...Well, you're not superior."

"Didn't say I was," Optimus frowned. "I'm not arrogant."

Sam winced as the Autobot suddenly bellowed. "HOT ROD! BUMBLEBEE!"

Both mechs suddenly dropped out of the ceiling, landing neatly before them.

Bumblebee squeaked guiltily as a petrified Sam dived under some of Optimus' armour.

Prime giggled. "...That really, really tickles."

Megatron held out his hand. "Well, give him here."

"One moment." The Autobot turned to his soldiers. "Why are you stalking us?"

Hot Rod pouted. "Because we're simply awesome. Don't mind about that- we can tell Megsy why you're way better...er."

The Decepticon raised an optic ridge. "This should be... interesting. _You_, Bumblebee. You first. Then Rot Hot."

"_...You choose a leader for his heart,_" Bumblebee replied after a moment, ignoring a twitching Hot Rod.

Megatron blinked. "That was pretty deep."

Sam, peeking out from his hidey-hole, looked quite emotional. "'bee, that was lovely."

Ratchet thrust himself into the conversation. //_Except he's Prime. We didn't particularly choose him_.//

The commander sighed. //_Thank you, Ratchet._//

Hot Rod coughed into a fist. "And my reason is that Optimus is second only to _me_."

"_Second to none!" _Bumblebee punched him before glancing to his leader. _"You've got the touch!"_

Prime glared at them both immediately. "No."

Hot Rod gaped, hands around Bumblebee's throat. "I didn't even do anything!"

Megatron snarled, causing both young mechs to jump. "Get out of my sight. Go and do something worthless."

Hot Rod struck a noble pose. "I am not afraid!"

"You don't need to be _afraid_ for me to offline you. You just need to be _weak_ or _stupid_."

The orange Autobot slunk away pretty quickly, Bumblebee following after a jaunty wave at Sam.

"No offence, Optimus," Megatron added. "You're not particularly stupid or weak."

Prime snorted. "I blame Sam for my death."

The human cringed. "I'm sorry! How many times?"

"How many-?" Optimus scowled at him. "I _died_ because of you! Don't you understand?"

"But I died because of you!"

"There's a difference in dying _because_ of someone and dying _for_ someone," the mech scowled. "I died because you did not listen to me_ at all_. What's wrong with you? Simple instructions. _Run_. _Hide_."

Megatron tutted disapprovingly. "He's got a point. He was distracted by you, allowing me to sneak up and EXTERMINATE, THEREFORE AFFIRMING MY EVILNESS!"

Optimus glared at Sam whilst waiting for Megatron's evil guffawing to cease. "I'm still pretty annoyed about that."

Sam looked rather upset. "Is that why you're doing _this_?"

Prime was surprised. "No. Megatron just asked to look after you, is all."

The laughter ceased abruptly. "I sense something useless. Where is Starscream? Busy failing somewhere, no doubt. Hand me the boy."

"...Sam, come out of there," Optimus ordered.

The teenager shuffled back further into his hidey-hole. "...No, no, no, no no!"

Megatron watched Optimus try to coax him out, then sighed. "You're not _doing_ it right."

Prime glanced over. "Help would be appreciated?"

"I shall do this for myself, not for you," Megatron declared loudly. "I am not helpful!"

Sam was frozen with fear- if only his capacity to speak were too. "No! No no no!"

"Well, that's fine," Optimus shrugged at the other mech. "But be quick about it, I hear trouble."

"Eh?"

"Ratchet isn't interjecting himself into our conversation. This means he's recharging, and Ratchet wouldn't pass up an opportunity like the middle of the orn to mock someone."

"...So he's just relaxing, surely?"

"Ratchet does not relax. Think back, brother."

Megatron pouted evilly. "...Ah. Only when abuse was going on does Ratchet consider himself off-duty. Someone must be being abused!"

"Indeed..." Optimus lowered his helm valiantly.

"NO NO NOOOO!" Sam shrieked.

Prime glowered at him, and he swiftly fell into a wide-eyed silence. The Autobot tried again, shaking his helm slightly as he gazed heroically into the middle-distance. "Dark times are those in which we live."

Megatron glared at the hiding human with Great Intent, and flexed his claws menacingly. "Come here, _boy_."

To Optimus' surprise, Sam slowly emerged, albeit shaking.

The Decepticon plucked him into the air. "Clever _boy_."

"How _did_ you do it? He never listens to a word I say!"

"Ah," Megatron watched the whimpering boy swing gently. "Secret."

"_Optimuuuus_!" Sam wailed desperately. "Please! Don't leave me with this psychopath! He'll kill me!"

"Sam!" Prime admonished, shocked. "Do not say such things about my brother! He isn't a psychopath, and he's very true to his word!"

Megatron sniffed. "_Thank you_, Optimus. I crossed my spark, didn't I, boy? No _harm_ shall come to you... none at _all_."

Sam sobbed quietly. "All I ever wanted was to be _normaaaaal! _The same as everybody else, no different, not-"

Megatron stroked him with a single claw. "See how delicately I touch you?"

"THIS IS NOT HAPPENING," Sam howled, trying to swing himself away from the solitary digit that could kill him without effort.

Red Alert appeared. Sam tried to attract his attention, but he was busy speaking to Optimus.

"Ah yes- medbay," the huge Autobot remembered, strolling off with the medic.

"OPTIMUUUUUS!"

"Don't wear it out!" Prime turned back and winked. "I'm sure you two will become firm friends."

"Ohh, we already _are_," Megatron growled with a flick of Sam, then strode after his brother. "Time to find my fail."

They strode in a dignified and regal manner for a minute or two, Optimus giving little tips on how to care for Sam.

"Don't let him out of your sight."

"Why?"

"Because he _will_ get into trouble. I'd rather not have to deal with his parents. They're deranged."

Megatron nodded. "I see your logic."

"And don't forget how small he is," Prime continued. "If you let him on the floor, remember he _is _there. It's all too easy to crush one, forgetting of his existence."

"Consider it remembered," the Decepticon replied, with a glance at the quivering teenager. "Why, they're tricky creatures."

"You have _no _idea," Optimus sighed. "You get all the niceties with your touching and squeezing-you don't have to cope with spasticated tendencies."

"...I'm used to Starscream," Megatron offered.

"Spastic enough," Prime agreed with a wince of sympathy, then opened the medbay door. "...What are you two _doing?_"

As it happens, Jazz was biting Starscream's leg. In return, the Seeker was trying to squash him into the floor.

Upon seeing him, Jazz immediately burst into tears. "OPTIMUUUS!"

Prime hurried over, pulling Starscream off of the spy and kicking him to the side. "What happened, Jazz?

"He hurt me a-and called me _smaaaaaaall_," Jazz wailed, clinging onto him.

Megatron appeared in the doorway. "Well, that was just _mean_ of him."

Starscream whipped around. "I d-didn't! And if I did, I didn't mean it, but he started it and called me a... a liar-! then attacked me and- I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!"

Disgusted, Megatron looked upon him disgustedly and let out a disgusted snort. "And here I was just about to congratulate you on a sudden grasp of how to be a Decepticon. _Disgusting_."

"What?" The other mech visibly wilted, horrified optics widening slightly.

"_So_ disappointing," the commander shook his helm. "And I ta-"

Today, however, Starscream had had enough- so he sprang to his feet. "That's _so _unfair!"

"Do _elaborate_."

"I'm always in the wrong- no matter what I do! If it's wrong one moment, it's right the next, if-"

Megatron rolled his optics. "You have the mental age of a sparkling."

"Do _NOT_! I am fully mature!"

The huge Decepticon suddenly presented a wide-eyed Sam to him. "Remember the boy; we are looking after him."

Starscream's optics narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"The boy. You know, the fleshling."

"WHY?!" Starscream shrieked, stamping his foot.

"_'Why'_ is beyond your comprehension, minion."

"He's too small!"

"So are you."

"He's stupid!"

"So are you."

"He doesn't seem to understand any commands!"

"Neither do you- yet the boy actually listens to _me_. Do you see where this is going?"

The Seeker scowled and huffed his way out of the room. "No."

Megatron addressed Sam. "It's alright, boy. He'll warm up to you."

"I don't really want him to warm up to me," Sam tried to push a claw away from him. "Because warming up, that's companionable and friendly, and nice friendly companionable people do it, and it also takes a while, and if it's not a problem, I'd rather not spend much time with you-_ OPTIMUUS_!"

Prime glanced over. "Hmm?"

"Don't let this happen! I don't want to die!"

"Neither did I," Optimus pouted. "Besides, we've told you before-"

"You're not going to _die_," Megatron smiled. _Smiled_.

Sam whimpered. "Oh, please don't smile."

"I do not smile!"

"...What was that then?"

"An evil twitch of the lips," Starscream explained suddenly from outside the room. "Honestly."

Megatron squeezed Sam gently, then sighed ecstatically. "This is better than I had hoped."

"I CAN'T TAKE THIS!"

Starscream didn't bother to hide his laughter.

Megatron allowed himself a small snigger, then strode out, Sam in hand.

Ratchet opened one optic to see him go. "Finally. Some peace."

Optimus looked at Jazz, who was pouting. "...Ratchet, were you just recharging?"

"Indeed."

"Whilst Starscream and Jazz were fighting?"

"Yes."

"Don't you feel guilty? You could have stopped them, surely?"

"Where would the fun be in that?"

Optimus was worried. "...I have a call to make."

"A call? Don't pretend you have friends," Ratchet snickered.

Jazz leapt to his feet. It is true that he was in Optimus' arms, but being Jazz, any smooth and dramatic move is possible. Will _you_ dispute this, reader? You had better not.

Jazz simply _leapt_ to his feet and thrust his chassis out in a superbly attention-grabbing manner. "Oppy has _me_!"

"...Thank you, Jazz," Prime sighed, watching Ratchet cackle harder.

"Galloway likes you too," the saboteur beamed, giving a thumbs-up.

"I'm going to leave now," Optimus announced suddenly. "I am going to go to my room. I am not going to come out until I have a way of sorting this whole... _thing_ out."

Red Alert looked a little worried. "Sir? Are you al-"

One of the leader's optics bulged as he stiffly strode away. "Yes, Red Alert. I'm just _dandy._"

* * *

_A little while later... :D_

After a pleasantly uneventful stride around the base, Megatron returned to his room, teenager in hand.

Frowning in deep thought, he put Sam down on his berth. "Stay, boy."

A hysterical Sam immediately tried to dive off of the edge, so the Decepticon flicked him- quite gently- back to the middle.

"Stop your wailing, boy," he ordered. "I didn't even hurt you."

"You have different conceptions of the word hurt!" Sam gasped, rolling around and clutching his midriff. "I'm in pain! Agony! Anguish!"

Starscream burst into the room and dived under the berth- well, he tried to. His wings got stuck on the bottom, prompting a screech.

Megatron kicked him under properly. "What's your problem now?"

"Don't give me away," Starscream begged earnestly. "Please!"

"What have you done _now_? If this is because of your uselessness, I will _actually_ finish you."

Sam was trying to find a way to jump off of the berth without killing himself, but had begun to consider suicide.

Megatron's question was answered as Arcee thrust herself into his room. "Where is he?"

"WHO?" the commander roared inappropriately.

"Starscream- who else?" Arcee scanned the room hurriedly.

"Me! For I am _Megatron_!"

"Yeah, well, I'm after _him_."

"Get out, _femme_," Megatron ordered. "Your ugly face disgusts me."

Arcee looked like she was about to explode. "Is he under your berth?"

"Why would I keep _Starscream _under my berth, you fool?"

"Someone is! My scans-"

"I ask you again, femme. Why would I keep Starscream under my _berth_?"

Arcee didn't really have a response, so after trembling furiously for a moment, she left with a scowl.

Uusually, Megatron managed to wait for about four astro-seconds before narrowing his optics. "There had better be an explanation for this."

Two red orbs peeked out of the darkness by the floor, fairly irritated looking themselves. "Oh, there _is_."

Sam ran around in circles on the berth, having given up his sanity. "Oh GAWD- _oh_ _man, oh GAWD_!"

As he crawled out from under the furniture, Starscream was certainly unimpressed- the angry stare he was producing _weighty_ evidence of this mood. "This is your fault."

"_My _fault that the most deranged femme in the history of our entire _race_ is hunting you down?"

"Yes."

"Justify this."

"With _pleasure_."

Megatron was suddenly taken by a flashback.

_Starscream had been busy avoiding Sunstreaker and Sideswipe when it had happened._

_"...I love that song."_

_He whipped around to see Arcee staring at one of his wings. "What?"_

_"_Up and abooove the sky_," she sighed, clasping her hands._

_Starscream blinked. "I really don't know what you're talking about."_

_"_The only way to flyyyyyyyyyyyyy-_! What do you mean?"_

_"How can you ask me that?!? You're the one spewing nonsense!"_

_"Did you get it done when you cut yourself?"Arcee asked, nodding at his wing again._

_"Get what done?!" Starscream shrieked._

_"...That etching," she replied._

_"E-etching...? Do you know how difficult it is to reach your own back? No? Well, it's hard. I would not doodle any unnecessary song-nonsense on my wing, thank you."_

_"I'll doodle some more song-nonsense on your wing," Arcee offered, edging closer._

_Starscream nearly paled. "Are- are you being serious? There's something written on me?"_

_"...Yes. As I said, one of my favourite songs."_

_The Seeker sounded extremely faint. "What does it say?"_

_Arcee glanced at it again. "You don't know?"_

_"I didn't put it there! How would I know?"_

_"I'll tell you... on one condition," she purred._

_Starscream didn't want to hear anymore, so he got out of there._

The flashback ended suddenly, leaving a slightly stunned Megatron blinking at the sudden memory he had gained.

"I didn't want to hear anymore, so I got out of there," Starscream hissed. "But I know that you wrote something on me!"

"What lies," Megatron gasped. "I wouldn't do such a thing!"

"You have! No one else has had the opportunity- or the gall!"

"So if I _had_, what are you going to do about it?"

Taken aback, Starscream stammered unintelligibly.

Megatron sighed jadedly. "...You don't know. What was the point of you even bringing it up?"

Starscream, feeling like a right fail, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I don't have an answer. I could think of one?"

"Please do."

There was a moment of silence as Starscream stroked his chin and Megatron's claws rippled through the air slowly.

"...Ah!" The Seeker brightened. "I know what I'm going to do if it _was_ you!"

"Welllllllll?"

"I'd probably-"

"NO!" Megatron bellowed, whipping round to point at the berth. "I see you, boy!"

Sam squeaked and flung himself on his front, as he was obviously less conspicuous that way.

"You were saying?" The large mech coughed, then turned back- only to see that the other Decepticon was not there. "...Starscream?"

The Seeker nervously picked himself up from the floor. "Yes?"

"Why are you on the ground?"

"I'm not."

"You _were_."

"Wasn't."

Megatron exhaled slowly. "Starscream, were you or were you not on the floor just now?"

"...Doesn't that depend on your concept of time? _Just_ _now_ might be different for you than it is for me-" Starscream broke off at a heavy glare. "...I was."

"And why?"

The second gestured in exasperation. "You were violently gesticulating and aggressively expressing yourself?"

"...And?"

"Usually that's towards me," Starscream replied.

"...And?"

"My Seeker-senses alerted me to you being dangerous."

"...And?"

"You being dangerous is painful!"

"Why, thank you. But I was disciplining the boy," Megatron explained. "Not you."

"Alright, th- discipline?! You do not _discipline_ _me_!" Starscream shrieked. "Discipline is for infants and pets!"

Megatron did not comment further on this. "You were _saying_ what you would do if it were me who had allegedly written on you?"

Taken by surprise at this sudden subject change, Starscream paused, trying to recall his proposal. "...I'd probably screech and flail at you in hysteria."

"That's all?"

The Seeker drooped miserably. "What else could I do?"

"Eh, nothing new. I can deal with that."

"...Well, what did you write?"

Megatron snorted. "You don't know?"

"No! I don't! And- and I'm very distressed about it, and you should tell me-"

"No," the commander disagreed. "I'm not going to tell you. It's a punishment, and you shall suffer its shame."

"_Shame_?? It's embarrassing?"

"_You're_ embarrassing. I would offline myself if I were you. But I am _not _you. I am MEGATRON!"

Starscream quietly drooped and headed for the door. "I'll go ask Prime what it says, then."

"Not yet you won't," Megatron replied in a sinisterly gleeful tone. "Come here a _moment_."

The Seeker did so tentatively. "What?"

Megatron turned to the wheezily hyperventilating teenager who was still hysterically trying to find a way to get to the ground. "Boy, it is time for you to properly meet Starscream. He won't hurt you."

"_Much_," the other mech breathed.

Sam tried to suck in some oxygen and continued ignoring them.

"Look, Starscream!" Megatron pointed with a cheerful air. "The boy is exercising."

The Seeker watched for a moment. "That's all well and good, but he can't breathe."

"...And?"

"If humans can't breathe, they die."

"What is this nonsense?" Megatron punched Starscream onto the berth and hovered over him in an insinuative position.

Sam shrieked feebly, scurrying as far away as he could.

The Seeker was displeased. "There is no need for this! Let me up immediately!"

Megatron frowned at him. "Silence. What is this tomfoolery about _breathing?_"

"...Oxygen," Starscream enunciated slowly. "Feeble life forms like _homo sapiens _rely on it utterly. It is necessary for cellular respiration, which i-"

The other Decepticon growled.

Starscream thought quickly. "If the boy does not intake enough oxygen, then he will obviously suffer a painful death from asphyxiation."

"Ahh, asphyxiation. Why didn't you say so? Boy, stop your charging about," Megatron ordered.

Sam continued his endeavour to escape.

"It hurts that you don't trust me," Megatron sighed, watching the boy run around the berth desperately.

"Why am I necessary?" Starscream demanded, still in the Insinuative Position. "It seems that you're having a _jolly_ enough time as it is."

"You're going to take care of the boy when I am busy."

"B-but you don't even have anything to do!"

"I am the Commander of the Decepticons! I have _lots_ of things to do!"

"...I'm not doing it. I will not look after some... some _mammal_!"

"But he must be looked after," Megatron argued. "How else is he to survive?"

"...I can look after myself," Sam whispered in a choked undertone to nobody in particular. "I can."

Both Decepticons replied at once. "No, you can't."

Sam tried to throw himself off of the berth.

Megatron caught him. "See how useless you are? Why, your race is so puny!"

Starscream watched with vague interest as Sam struggled to breathe. "Look; I believe he's dying."

Megatron raised him to optic level. "How can you tell?"

"Observe his flushed nature," Starscream pointed out. "This is highly irregular."

The teenager was indeed a beautiful shade of puce.

"Well, that isn't on," the commander pouted. "He isn't allowed to die. Think of a solution at once."

"...I'm sure it would help if you stopped scaring him."

Megatron snorted and regarded the human. "Boy, stop dying immediately!"

Attempting to concentrate on breathing, Sam didn't have much of a response.

"Stop dying before I _stop_ it for you," the mech hissed menacingly.

Sam was very, _very_ relieved to find that the invisible blockage in his windpipe suddenly disappeared.

Megatron nodded approvingly. "See him suck in great breaths, Starscream. He is pleased."

"He looks it."

"...That is your sarcastic tone, minion."

"I'm just sure he would be _more_ pleased if he was not being terroris- I mean, loomed upon by a gigantic entity." Starscream spread his hands. "Just saying."

"Oh, expert, are you? You will watch him for a while." The commander jiggled the human enthusiastically.

Starscream shook his helm in revulsion. "I'm not doing it. You wanted him, _you _do it."

"No," Megatron concluded simply, grabbing him by the scruff and striding out. "We're all going to have some _fun_."

* * *

_A whole day passed, readers, before something eventful happened._

Prowl was walking down a corridor when he heard something suspicious.

Frowning magnificently, he quietly crept towards the source of the noise, then realised it was coming from Optimus' room.

He was about to burst in when a thought crossed his processor- it could just be Prime noisily striding about. In this case, Prowl would be an intrusion, and-

"I'll show you why I'm Prime!" his commander suddenly boomed, breaking the peace of patient thought.

Prowl, fully alert, froze- but was unable to speak. This didn't seem to bother Optimus, as loud crashes erupted from within the room.

"Have my _fist_ and a large helping of _shame... _served with the pain of _humiliation_!"

Prowl dived to the wall instinctively as another smash rang out, then glanced downwards to see _blood_ slowly seeping from under the door.

Optimus laughed madly as the door burst away and a torrent of blood exploded into the corridor, wildly coursing down the space.

Rooted to the spot, the second could only stare as it headed towards him, seemingly growing more powerful by the astro-second.

Suddenly, a table appeared among the roaring froth of haemoglobin.

Prowl stared in disbelief as a strange Cybertronian clung to it. It wasn't the fact that he was missing an arm that caused such surprise. Why, such injuries were common on the base. It was moreover the way that this injury was the origin for the wrathful gush of blood still charging towards him.

Prime's deep laughter continued as the blood sped for Prowl, rising and menacingly towering above him.

The Autobot tried to run, tried to escape, but his legs wouldn't obey him! He could only watch, terrified, as-

"PROWLIIIE!"

He was tackled to the side.

"It's dirty," Prowl wailed, flailing, optics tightly closed. "Get it away from me! It's coming!"

"Prowlie! It's okay! It's _US!_"

"The world is definitely _not '_okay'!" Prowl's optics suddenly snapped open.

Two concerned faces gazed back at him. "Prowlie?"

"ARGGGH, too close, too close!"

Sunny and Sides shuffled backwards about a millimetre. "Are you okay, Prowlie?"

"Prowlie, are you alright?"

"Prowlie, Prowlie?"

The black and white mech grasped his helm. "Where's the blood?"

"Blood? You want blood, Prowlie?"

"Some kind of sacrifice, Prowlie? We can arrange that. Where's Sam's female?"

"No, someone might miss her, Sides. That Galloway will do."

"No, no! No sacrifice!" Prowl looked around, and found himself in his room. "...It was a dream? Thank _Pr-_"

"Prowlie," Sides gasped, "You had a bad dream?"

"QUICKLY," Sunny howled. "We must get him to the medbay! No delays!"

"At once!"

"Immediately!"

"Our Prowlie is unwell!"

Sunstreaker scooped Prowl up. "To Ratchet!"

"Wha- no!"

Sideswipe opened the door. "But you must be checked over, Prowlie! What if you have overworked yourself again?"

"Prowlie, you mustn't be ill," the golden twin told him, exiting into the corridor. "If you are ill-"

"...Stop this idiocy at once," the second ordered. "We are not going to the medbay."

"But why, Prowlie?"

"What if you're _ill_, Prowlie?"

"I should rest," Prowl declared. "I don't want to bother Ratchet. And besides, if it is nothing, then Ratchet will turn his Wrath upon you two for wasting his time."

Sideswipe regarded him solemnly. "Prowlie, that's nothing. As long as you're happy and healthy, our welfare is of little concern."

"...Except my paintwork," his brother mused. "But apart from my paintwork, Prowlie, we don't matter."

"Put me _down_, boys."

Sunny decided to wait until they were back inside Prowl's room before actually releasing the tactician.

Prowl eyed them. "You can go now."

Sideswipe immediately tackled him onto the berth. "I saw that look!"

"Prowlie, you're thinking devious thoughts-!" Sunstreaker decided to help his twin hold the other mech down.

"Oh, _Primus_." Prowl threw his helm back into the berth, hoping for a satisfying sound.

"He's trying to _hurt_ himself!" Sideswipe shrieked. "Quickly, Sunny-"

"DO something!"

"Like what?"

"I don't know! Perhaps we should cuddl- I mean, restrain Prowlie from both sides! Then he won't be able to get away!"

Prowl had had enough. "_Sunstreaker_! _Sideswipe_!"

Both rocketed to attention beside his berth. "Prowlie!"

"Prowlie!"

The mech glared at them. "You will not touch me. Is that understood?"

Sideswipe looked downright miserable. "But-"

"There is to be no discussion. You will also stop your futile fussing. I do not need to see Ratchet if I have a scratch on my paintwork."

"Primus forbid," Sunny breathed, automatically crossing himself.

"_Sunstreaker_! ...From now on, you will treat me as you would _any_ other ranking officer. Is that understood?"

A quivering hand was raised. "P-permission to speak?"

"A matter of urgency, Sideswipe?"

"Yes-"

"No. Leave now, and do not come back."

Swiftly exiting, he missed the spark-broken twins glance at each other.

"B-but Prowlie," Sideswipe whispered, "you're not just a highly ranking officer."

"Not to us," Sunny finished quietly.

* * *

Jazz's voice suddenly erupted through the speakers. "_THEY'VE GOT SAAAAAM!_"

Optimus looked up, mildly interested. "Hmm?"

Ratchet scowled. "So informative, Jazz."

There was a huff. "_I'm through with this. I can't be dramatic. Give me a minute._"

"What about the boy?"

"_He can wait a minute, can't he? If it weren't for my warning, you wouldn't even know._"

Exactly fifty-two seconds later, the door toppled to the floor.

"Nothing can stand in Jazz's way!" Jazz cried. "My high-kick will take ANYTHIN-"

Ratchet yawned pointedly, earning himself a glare.

"Th- Sam?" Ironhide prompted.

Jazz shook his helm and retreated out of the room. After a brief pause, he hurled himself into the room, skidding dramatically, and gasping for breath. "They've taken him!"

Ratchet sighed, and rubbed his nasal-plating.

"I couldn't stop them," Jazz cried, clutching his side, "they-"

The CMO couldn't restrain himself, and flung out a hand. "Why are you gasping for breath?"

Jazz twitched at the flaw in his flawless plan. "It's more shock-worthy, okay?"

"Right. Continue."

The silver mech scowled, the interruption throwing him off balance. "I'm going to start again."

They waited patiently whilst he exited the room.

"...Come on, it _is_ Jazz."

"He doesn't usually make us sit through _four_ attempts of him being dramatic." Ratchet rolled his optics.

"Yes, but he hasn't had much attention this past... orn."

"Less than an orn, really."

Jazz flung himself into the room. "It's SAM! HE'S BEEN CAPTURMALATED!"

"Sorry," Ironhide replied. "He's been what?"

"CAPTURMALATED!"

Red Alert gasped in horror. "No! Surely not capturmalation!"

"EXACTLY!" Jazz howled.

The junior medic paused. "No, I don't know what you're talking about. I thought I might if I got into the swing of the emotion, but no."

"MEGATRON HAS CAPTURMALATED SAM!"

Optimus burst in. "Did I hear you say the names 'Sam' and 'Megatron' in the same sentence?"

"Other way round, but yes!" Jazz dropped to his knees, and pounded the floor with a fist for no apparent reason.

"Sam must be in trouble!" Optimus declared. "We must liberate him immediately!"

No one moved.

"Come on, mechs!" Prime pleaded. "He's our ally and our friend!"

"There's no point, Optimus," Ratchet sighed. "He won't be in any _trouble_. You expressively forbade Megatron from harming him. Anyway; you know that they have Sam. You even _gave_ him to them, didn't you?"

"Besides," Ironhide yawned, "Megatron will get bored after a while, then bring him back. After all, Sam would be less fun than Starscream. He'll get fed up of the boy, then go and m-"

Bumblebee ran out of the room, clutching his audio receptors.

Optimus looked desperately towards the door. "'hide! You can blow stuff up!"

Ironhide leapt to his feet. "Well, I suppose he _might_ be in danger."

"I'll come on time for check-ups! I'll make sure Wheeljack has an unfortunate accident! ...Please, Ratch?"

The CMO's mouth twitched before he stood. "Very well."

Jazz charged down the corridor, dragging Optimus with him. "WE MUST HURRY!"

"Why?" Ratchet repressed a yawn, then glared at Ironhide as they followed. "You've started me off with your yawning!"

"Eh," Ironhide replied, cannons rotating happily, "Maybe you just didn't have your mid-day recharge, old mech."

"Old mech, you call me? I'm going to-"

"THIS WAY!" Jazz shrieked.

Ratchet hadn't stopped."-rip off your-"

"DOWN HERE!"

"-and stick it down your-"

"LEFT, LEFT!"

"-and when you think it's all over-"

"FASTER!"

"-you'll find yourself in _more_ agony-"

"WATCH THE FLOOR!"

"-I'll hand you over to Megatr-"

"YOU'LL HURT YOUR BACK!"

"-and I'm sure he has a few ideas-"

"DON'T STEP IN THAT PATCH OF BLOOD!""

"-after all, he-" Ratchet interrupted himself. "Blood, Jazz?"

"IT'S OKAY! YOU'VE GONE PAST IT," Jazz shouted, tugging Optimus round another corner.

Ratchet frowned. "Human blood?"

"Could be one of Wheeljack's bizarre experiments," Ironhide suggested.

Optimus' wail could suddenly be heard. "It must have been Sam's blood! We've failed him! HE'S DOOMED! AND WITHOUT SAM, THE AUTOBOTS WILL FAIL EVERMORE!"

Ratchet and Ironhide continued down the corridor at a slightly more sedate pace, before coming across the labs.

"I should have known _he_ was a part of this," the medic muttered dangerously, hesitating before entering.

"...I could shoot him for you," Ironhide offered.

"I have different ideas. Painful ideas."

They entered, and found themselves totally befuddled for several moments.

Ratchet's sigh was venomous and threatening.

Ironhide scratched a cannon. "Well, that Warehouse is certainly something... can I blow it up now?"

"Sam is inside, you idiot," Ratchet seethed, turning to Wheeljack. "How long did you waste throwing this together?"

"Um..."

"How big is it? Do you even know?"

"Well..."

Ratchet employed the Tone Reserved for Slow Individuals. "DO YOU KNOW YOUR WAY AROUND IT?"

"...Not-"

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO YOU _ARRRE_?!" Ratchet snarled, verging on the emergence of Wrath.

Wheeljack perked up slightly. "I-"

"NO! You don't even deserve to _be_ someone! You're just NOTHING! You're an OBJECT with no capacity for thought- YOU HAVE LESS SENSE THAN HOT ROD!" Ratchet turned away, heading towards the construction.

Wheeljack hung his helm, then thought of something. "Don't you mean less sense than Hot Rod as a _sparkling_?"

"No, I don't. It's the same thing- in fact, adult Hot Rod may even have lost the _tiny_ bit of common sense that he had as a sparkling. ...You know what?" Ratchet wheeled back around, pointing menacingly. "There's a _place_ for people like you. It's called _Fail Town_. And you're the _Fail Train_ that goes there. You _fail_ so much you don't even get to stay in Fail Town. You just sit outside in the rain and get _rusty_ whilst the regular Failures snuggle together."

Optimus groaned as he contemplated the Warehouse. "This is terrible. Finding your way around this beast is harder than trying to get _through_ to Hot Rod."

Ratchet stroked his chin. "I get through to Hot Rod pretty quickly... once he's sedated."

Ironhide sniggered. "I hadn't realised it was Hot Rod Abuse Day."

"_Every _day is Hot Rod Abuse Day. He brings it on himself."

Jazz stood magnificently outside one of the many entrances. "Well? Are we going in?"

* * *

_Deleted Scenes :3_

"NO NO NOOOO!" Sam shrieked.

Prime glowered at him, and he swiftly fell into a wide-eyed silence. The Autobot tried again, shaking his helm slightly as he gazed heroically into the middle-distance. "Dark times are those in which we live."

Megatron glared at the hiding human with Great Intent, and flexed his claws menacingly. "Come here, boy."

To Optimus' surprise, Sam slowly emerged, albeit shaking.

The Decepticon plucked him into the air. "Clever bo- oh _dear_."

Sam's clothes had ripped and he fell through the air with a scream, smacking into the floor and crumpling.

Optimus peered downwards with a bite of the lip. "...I think we need Ratchet."

* * *

Prowl had had enough. "Sunstreaker! Sideswipe!"

Both rocketed to attention beside his berth. "Prowlie!"

"Prowlie!"

The mech glared at them. "You will not touch me. Is that understood?"

Sideswipe looked downright miserable. "But-"

"There is to be no discussion. You will also stop your futile fussing. I do not need to see Ratchet if I have a scratch on my paintwork."

"Primus forbid," Sunny breathed, automatically crossing himself.

"Sunstreaker! ...From now on, you will treat me as you would any other ranking officer. Is that understood?"

A quivering hand was raised. "P-permission to speak?"

"A matter of urgency, Sideswipe?"

"Yes-"

"No. Leave now, and do not come back."

Swiftly exiting, he missed the spark-broken twins glance at each other.

"B-but Prowlie," Sideswipe whispered, "you're not just a highly ranking officer."

"Not to us," Sunny finished quietly. "Not to us, Prowlie!"

He dived out of the door, Sideswipe right behind him. "PROWLLLIIE!"

Prowl was standing outside calmly, waiting for the take to finish when he was tackled by the two Corvettes. "What the-"

"Prowlie, you can't do this!"

"We miss you, Prowlie!"

Ratchet hurled a wrench at them. "This is no good! This won't be in the final cut!"

"...It won't be now," Red Alert breathed, watching Prowl be smacked into the floor as the twins attempted to keep him from escaping.

"IDIOTS! Why must I work with such _retards_?"

Starscream, flicking through his script out of shot, glanced at Megatron. "I dearly wish you'd treat me as you do any other ranking officer. _They_ don't get abused."

"...I don't _have _any other ranking officers."

"That can't be true!"

Megatron thought for an astro-second, then winked. "Oh, no. My attentions are all on _you_."

Understandably, Starscream refused to act opposite Megatron for a week or two.

* * *

Will Jazz ever get an answer- will the Autobots ever go into Wheeljack's Wacky Warehouse?

(I admit it's unlikely, especially with the speed of my recent updating. :/)

Never mind. :3 I promise I'll update more quickly than last time! Damn, I had forgotten how much I love writing this. :D

Oooh, shameless self-promotion! :D If you haven't come across it, the first chapter of _What The Transformers Thought Of Revenge of the Fallen _is out. Wow. ;D

Till next time, reader- when we find that all is not going smoothly!


	21. Chapter 21

Everybody, I am officially seventeen. Isn't that splendid? It is very splendid, everybody.

So this is my present to you, my most faithful of readers. And gosh, hasn't it been a long time? xO

All my exams are over, and whilst I feel that I have failed them all, I have profusely more time to write now. Updates will be more regular than every five months. ;D

Thank you 9aza, Botosphere, Grumpy Old Diamond, Splatter Fall, SKIDDY, LunaeShark, AquaGrace, Lioness09Wolf, SeekerMutt I-950, Httw, Kotomi Miyamura: the most gorgeous beings out there. GORGEOUS.

As promised last chapter, things are beginning to collapse. Brace yourselves, good people!

* * *

Optimus headed towards the Warehouse. "We must hurry!"

"Be careful," Ironhide warned. "We don't know what could be in there."

Prime paused thoughtfully. "But we will not be able to find out unless we actually go _in_."

Ratchet scowled in agreement and glared forcefully at Wheeljack. "Well?"

The inventor tottered backwards.

"What's _in _here?" the medic snarled.

"...Fun things?"

Ratchet wrangled the air resignedly. "Prepare for explosives."

Ironhide quickly stepped in front of Optimus. "I'll go first."

"_No_." Prime pushed him back firmly. "I will!"

"Don't get physical with me, lad."

"Did-? Well, I am going first."

"Don't make me hurt you," Ironhide advised.

Optimus frowned heroically. "I will not let you sacrifice yourself."

"...Oh, sorry," the black mech replied, resolutely moving ahead again. "I didn't realise my life was worth more than yours."

"Ironhide-!" Optimus scowled, immediately blocking the other's way. "Of course it is!"

"When you're not being an aft, you're my _friend_- being Prime doesn't even have to come into it. So move."

"Your life is worth more to _me_," the Peterbilt raged.

Ratchet rubbed his nasal plating. "I'll sedate you."

"But-"

"Sam can rot."

"Did you really just say that?"

The CMO thought momentarily. "Yes. He means little to me bar a laugh and study every now and then."

Prime was speechless. Well, almost. "I can't believe- but-"

"Why, Optimus, do you insist on him?"

"...Because he's Sam!"

Ironhide sneakily edged in front of the red and blue mech before jumping at a large pipe-tunnel overhead. He slammed into a section below the opening and crumpled to the ground.

Ratchet left the wincing to Jazz and continued. "You call that a reason? He's nothing but trouble and stress. You know what? After today, he's going home."

"This is his home!" Prime wailed like a deprived child, somehow oblivious to the Weapons Specialist smashing about the place.

"I don't hear a good reason for him to be here."

"I'll think of one!"

"He's twitchy, useless, annoying, repetitive, time-consuming- a liability! He-"

"Megatron will help me!" Optimus argued suddenly. "We'll show you that Sam is worthwhile!" With that, he turned nobly and saw Ironhide's aft disappearing into the pipe. "'_hide_! Jazz, you _helped_ him-!"

Jazz looked around guiltily before flipping snazzily up into the tunnel after Ironhide.

"You are _all_ going to the brig!" Optimus roared, striding towards the same entrance.

"For what?" Ironhide's laugh echoed. "For protecting our Prime from heroically charging off into the unknown?"

"...Nyyyyeeeee," Prime shouted angrily, merely stretching up slightly to reach the pipe. He hauled himself in, and valiantly crouched for a moment at the edge. "Ratchet, if I fail to return- presume that I have fallen whilst endeavouring to-"

Ratchet paced towards him furiously. "I'm coming too, glitchface."

"What? No, that's not right- I must face this alone-!"

"Give me help up. Now." The medic arrived underneath the pipe, and decided that _unlike some_, he wasn't going to sacrifice any dignity by hurling himself at it.

Optimus sulked for a moment, then extended a hand- which Ratchet took after inspecting suspiciously- and tugged him up.

The Hummer stood for a moment, eyeing the construction with even greater suspicion. "...I hate Wheeljack."

Optimus was still pouting. "I hate the way you won't let me sacrifice myself."

"That's what we Autobots are for, you loser. To stop you from doing it."

"But I _want_ to. It increases my heroism!"

"What good is a hero when he's dead?"

"...I came back," Prime muttered unhappily. "I did."

"And caused us much strife and worry in the process. Now _stop_ feeling sorry for yourself. Sam needs us."

"Yes, Ratchet."

The CMO's sharp optics caught the brief flicker of disappointment flood across the younger mech's face. "...Fine, you retard. If there's a moment to be heroic, you can take it. But we're going to be there as well."

Prime beamed. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Ratchet firmly reminding Optimus that this was _Wheeljack's territory_ and that they must tread with caution, so began the journey.

They started off down the pipe at a relatively speedy pace to try and catch up with their fellow Autobots. Minutes passed- not even a sign of them.

Ratchet decided to comm them."...Jazz, Ironhide. Where are you? We aren't catching up_._"

/_We aren't going **that** fast,/ _Ironhide replied. /_Maybe you're just slow._/

"Says _you_? Whatever. What was your last landmark? We're still in the pipe."

/_...What pipe?_/

Jazz burst in. /_Th'one at th'beginning? That was **short,** Ratch. We burst outta there like, ages ago._/

Ratchet shared a look with Optimus. "...Oh dear."

"I don't understand," the semi frowned. "We went into the _same pipe_."

They scrutinised their surroundings once more- just smooth walls of said pipe. No exits, nor hidden exits.

"Perhaps we should just blast our way through," Prime suggested.

"Sorry, Ironhide. This is Wheeljack, remember? The whole place could come down."

"Then we must simply struggle on against all odds."

"I wouldn't have put it as dramatically as that, but yes."

They proceeded down the pipe.

"This is mystifying."

"This is ridiculous." The CMO abruptly halted. "My scans show nothing but this useless cylinder for miles!"

Prime trusted his judgement. "And the other way?"

Ratchet paused, stretching his scanners to their limits. "It doesn't end."

"So we're going to end up trapped and slowly rusting in this endless construction?"

"I refuse to meet my end by Wheeljack," Ratchet hissed.

Before Optimus could even blink, the medic's saw had formed.

"Steady, Ratchet. We'll find some way out other than self-termination. ...Ratchet-?"

* * *

Jazz was beaming at the sight before him.

Ironhide was beaming too.

"Finally," the saboteur cried, staring through the clear doorway into the interesting room, "_finally_ I can show off m'skills!"

"Finally I can use my cannons!"

They charged in.

Two minutes later they hurtled out, panting, and slammed the door shut- Optimus had commed them.

/_What's your situation?_/

"Pounding fluffy aft," Ironhide expelled a giant ventilation and glanced back into the room suspiciously. "How's your pipe problem?"

/_Fluffy-? We are attempting to rectify our predicament. What have you found?_/

"A room entirely filled with-" Ironhide paused and scanned once again. "Large cotton balls."

/C_osmetics objects?_/ Prime was audibly frowning. /_Then just head through._/

"Of the mutated kind."

/_What the **hell**?_/ Ratchet suddenly questioned. /_Mutated **cotton balls**?_/

"Very muchly," Jazz wailed, pulling at one stuck to his visor.

Ironhide helped the spy rip it away. "...Primus."

Its sharp fangs snapped at him from a huge mouth before it was flung back into the room.

The entire army of mutated cotton balls instantly charged at the door, smacking into it one after the other, jaws snapping and snarling.

Jazz blinked as they slid up and down, teeth grating against the door in attempt to reach them. "...'hide?"

"Jazz?"

"We should try th'other way?"

"I concur."

* * *

You all know that Ironhide isn't easy to scare.

Then again, you all know that Jazz is- well, Jazz.

The two entered another room- Ironhide's cannons rumbling warily, Jazz creeping forwards cautiously.

It was full of what looked like simple squishy pillars, sticking up from the floor but not quite reaching the ceiling. They were placed not _too_ close together, but there were enough of them to block any line of sight.

"Split," Ironhide mouthed, gesturing with a finger.

Jazz nodded and dived to the opposite side of the room.

Ironhide had an uncomplicated theory: if you blasted it and it didn't retaliate/died, then it wasn't a threat.

Thus, after a moment or two regarding the still, squishy pillars, it seemed only natural that they were either lifeless or biding their time until he turned his back- then they would be able to attack him when he was least wary.

"No chance," Ironhide bristled, cannons working into a whirling humming.

The pillar seemed to mock him with its silence- daring him.

Never one to refuse a challenge, Ironhide blasted the stupid inanimate thing- then tensed as it rebounded backwards and forwards at speed, revolving around its base.

"_Hyuu**hhhuuuuuuhyuh**_!" it laughed.

Ironhide's optic twitched- now it was definitely mocking him. He fired again-

"_Hyuhuuuuuu**hhhuuuuuuhyuhhh**_!"

What in the _Pit_?

He shot at a neighbouring pillar- the blast slammed into it, his aim true.

"_Hyuhuhuhuhu!_" it cried mirthfully, bouncing around.

Ironhide recoiled in horror. What was this? "Jazz!"

There was no reply.

Could the saboteur have been taken by these inane, senseless things?

Unwittingly, he stepped backwards, attempting to eye his opponents more critically- but crashed right into another.

"_HYUUUYUUUUU_!" it roared gleefully.

Ironhide cried out as he stumbled away, crushing another- a chain reaction of hideous laughter began. He fired randomly (attempting to destroy the demons), but the laughing only grew, consuming the entire room with madness.

"_Hyuk**hyukhyuk**uuh-_"

"_-YUHHHHUUUUUU-_"

" _HyukUKUKUKUuu!_"

Through the crazy cawing, Ironhide didn't hear the door opening.

He could only stare at the pillars in horror- and continue blasting them, of course. If he hit them enough, they couldn't possibly keep laughing-

"...Phallus."

Ironhide choked and span, cannons snapping to point at the speaker-

A very unimpressed Arcee stood slightly behind him.

The laughter died a little.

Completely stunned, the mech stared at her.

"What's that, Arcee?" Jetfire emerged from behind another pillar, rifle smoking slightly.

"Phalluses. Just look at all the phallus shaped objects in this room. _Vile._ I think I might purge."

Ironhide recovered slightly. "Would it make you feel better if they were shaped like-"

Jetfire wisely cut across him. "We should leave."

"What was that craziness?" Ironhide asked with a shudder.

The young shuttle subspaced his rifle. "...That's for me to know."

Arcee shook her helm with a scowl and swanked away towards a door on the closest wall. "Mechs. All the same."

"Why are you even here?" Ironhide frowned.

"We heard you might be in a spot of bother- and Prime called near on everyone in."

Ironhide suddenly remembered that his silver companion had disappeared. "Jazz-!"

"Jazz is just fine," Jetfire rushed. "He- he's going through another door. No worries, he claimed he was going to- to meet up with some others. Spread out, make this Sam-finding b-business a bit easier."

"The doors won't open." Ironhide noticed Arcee glaring at the shut exit. "We tried-"

"I am _not_ wasting my time in this slagging-" The rest of the femme's utterance was lost as she pulled out some weaponry and blew the door into pieces.

The mechs fearfully watched her roll her shoulders.

"_Well? _Are you _coming_?"

"Definitely," Jetfire speedily assured, hurrying towards her. "I-Ironhide?"

Ironhide trudged over. "I suppose. Not that I'm following _her_."

"And why would that be?" Arcee hissed immediately. "Because I'm a femme and we're _weak_ and _small_ and-"

"I just don't like _you,_" the black warrior snarled. "I have _nothing_ against femmes!"

"Oh, _nothing_! So you feel _nothing_! You don't consider us worthy of _any_ emotion at _all_-"

Ironhide's cannons rotated loudly.

"And after Jetfire and I bothered to come and save your sorry aft-"

"I didn't need help!" Ironhide instantly refuted. "I was-"

"Being terrorised by giant inanimate objects!" Arcee hissed, hurling an arm out to the side.

"You don't have to be here- just leave," Ironhide demanded. "I will be quite fine by myself."

"You are incapable of looking after yourself," the femme argued. "I will not lose this team-challenge because of your hubris!"

"I do _not_ have hubris!"

"You _do_! It's all me mech, me have cannons, me shoot, me like boom, me big strong mech! Nobody else can _possibly_ take any glory away from you-"

Ironhide's growl was matched by his cannons snarling.

"Try it," Arcee challenged, continuing to pace down the corridor. "I'd like to see you try!"

The black Autobot snorted. "It'd be too easy. I'd destroy you by accident-"

It was just a theory, of course- but Jetfire, quietly trudging behind his fellows, imagined that this excursion would be rather draining.

It was at that moment that Ratchet smashed through the ceiling and landed on him.

"Ow," Jetfire mumbled, face crushed into the ground and wings bent at an agonising tangent by a rather heavy medic.

"Mmm, comfy," Ratchet declared. "Not a bad landing- who is this? Oh, Jetfire. What are you doing on the floor?"

"You _landed _on him," came Optimus' somewhat distant voice.

From his new position on the ground and through a blur of pain, Jetfire was able to see and feel the Prime descend from the ceiling, silver feet right in front of him.

The weight from the shuttle's back was suddenly released, and Ratchet was hauling him up, inspecting him with an experienced optic. "I've twisted your wing."

"It's nothing," Jetfire resolutely denied, trying to concentrate on not feeling the slicing pains through his appendage and swaying slightly with bright spots blurring his vision. "I'll be just f-fine."

Ratchet was incredulous. "Your wing is bent."

"Good-goodo," Jetfire blinked, optics attempting to focus after his team mates. "Must go, want to kill 'chuther."

Optimus and Ratchet shared a look.

"Jetfire," the CMO began loudly. "What do you feel?"

Lancing agony shot through the shuttle's bent wing. "I might b-be in some pain," he admitted shakily. "But-"

The medic scanned Jetfire once more, then grasped his arm firmly before injecting him with something. "You're coming with me. No excuses."

Prime was concerned. "Is he-?"

"Wings," Ratchet scowled. "Idiotic, over-sensitive things. This entirely ruins the plan. You'll have to come back to the medbay- I'm not letting you wander around here on your own."

"Ratchet," Optimus sighed. "I am fully capable of handling any situation which could arise. Besides, Ironhide is just over there. If I must be with someone, he will be perfectly adequate." He paused, seeing Jetfire's antennae prick slightly. "How do you feel?"

The scientist's optics brightened. "Super. Fuzzy. Waaaaaaarm. Super. Bubbly. Say fuzzy? Feel _fuzzy_."

"He sounds like he's overdosed," Prime said meaningfully.

"Whoops," Ratchet deadpanned. "Wings are funny things. If you had some, you'd know his agony. You can never be too sure with dosage strength- and that was all I had to hand."

"Why did you have it to hand at any rate?"

"For you," the CMO freely confessed. "So don't get any ideas about being heroic. I've got my tranquilizers on you."

"Fuzzy!" Jetfire laughed delightedly.

Optimus was horrified. "I could be like _that-_?"

The CMO nodded smugly. "Now, got to go. Catch up with Ironhide or _else_." He began to lead Jetfire away, firmly but gently. "Come on, you."

"Arceeeeeee- crazy femme!" Jetfire cried deliriously, glancing back down the corridor. "Ironhiiiiiiiide, Ratchet's got me! G'bye!"

Needless to say, Optimus did _not_ catch up with Ironhide. It seemed far more advantageous to split up- plots always progressed faster when the protagonist was on his/her own. The story just seemed to find them instead of vice versa.

He was well aware that Ratchet had extremely sensitive scanners, so it was a good while after the medic disappeared that Optimus' innocent, slow ambling down the corridor after Ironhide ended. Prime dived into a narrow pipe in the wall, which turned out to be long twisting slide onto some sort of bouncy, cold material.

"...Nice," the commander commented as it shifted beneath his aft and a giant blob of what appeared to be the human substance _jelly _rose up before him, intent to try and envelope him clearly evident. "Simply fantastic."

* * *

Prowl was walking down the corridor purposefully.

"Prowlie is... walking..._down_ the corridor...purposefully," Sideswipe narrated in a manner oddly reminiscent of David Attenborough. "With a _purpose_."

Sunstreaker nodded. "Prowlie is never without a purpose."

Prowl stopped, then turned his helm slowly.

The twins froze.

After a brief pause, Sunny continued in a whisper. "The Prowlie... has _incredibly... _acute... senses."

"Hence our... hushed _tones_ and careful... controlled, slow... mannerisms. If we are ...detected, there is a high _risk_ of... confrontation."

"And confrontation... could leave _us_... potentially... defeated," the golden twin added.

"And this-" Sideswipe frowned, suddenly realising something. "Potentially? Don't you mean definitely?"

"Uh, no. I'm Sunstreaker, remember?"

"Of course I remember, you _idiot_-" Sideswipe forced himself to stop as Prowl's doorwings stiffened.

Sunstreaker hadn't quite noticed, his voice rising unconsciously. "So how could we- because after all, there's me- ever be defeated?"

"Sunny, Sunny-"

"_What_?"

"Prowlie _knows,_" Sideswipe nearly mouthed.

Sunstreaker spread his hands exasperatedly. "Prowlie knows everything. Be specific!"

"He _knows_ we're _here_," the silver brother hissed.

"Don't be ridiculou-"

"You just said he knows _everything_! How do you _know_ he doesn't know? You _illogical_-"

Prowl suddenly recommenced walking.

The twins let out a joint ventilation that neither had realised was being held.

"I can't stand this!" Sunstreaker wailed suddenly.

"Nor I!" cried Sideswipe.

Prowl walked on.

They ran after him. "**Prowlie!**"

Sideswipe dived in front of the older mech, almost jogging backwards to keep up whilst rapidly speaking. "Prowlie, we can't take this anymore! You have to start speaking to us again! We- we don't know-"

"Prowlie, you can't just leave us this way!"

"-what you want us to do, Prowlie!"

Prowl stopped abruptly, widened optics suddenly focussing beyond them.

"Prow- Prowlie?"

"...Prowlie?"

Oblivious, the tactician passed them both, his gaze fixed onto the ground.

The brothers exchanged a worried glance.

Sunstreaker decided to speak very loudly and clearly. "**_Prowlie_**, can you _hear_ us?"

No response.

Prowl continued to move away from them, optics boring into the floor.

"Prowlie?"

The Corvettes followed, anxiety beginning to clutch their processors. "Prowlie, what are you doing?"

The second knelt suddenly and peered at something intently.

"What's he _looking_ at?" Sunstreaker hissed concernedly.

"Did you lose control of your legs, Prowlie? Do you need us to-"

"That would be fairly serious," Red Alert commented.

Sunstreaker jumped- then turned the startled mannerism into a smooth turn , spinning niftily to face the mech. "Where did _you_ come from?"

"Down the corridor."

"You just _appeared_!"

"_Nobody _just 'appears'- unless they have some innate teleporting ability."

"Creep," Sunny muttered noisily.

Prowl spoke without looking back. "Red Alert- perfect. Could you analyse this for me?"

The medic blinked before passing the dumbstruck Corvettes and crouching down next to the tactician. "Certainly."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe watched confusedly as the two briefly engaged in conversation.

"Sunny," Sideswipe frowned, "What's going on? I don't understand!"

"Nor I," the golden brother replied loudly. "But I intend to find out!"

Prowl, meanwhile, was grimly satisfied with whatever he had heard. "I see. Thank you."

"Not a problem, sir." Red Alert stood, following the other mech's lead. "I take it you _have_ heard the latest from Prime?"

"No," Prowl admitted. "I silenced my communications channel."

Red Alert was momentarily taken aback. "...He asks for reinforcements in Wheeljack's Warehouse."

Prowl was already moving. "As in?"

"Everybody." The medic followed.

"Is he in danger?"

"He did not mention any threat in the message- just that multiple mechs- and femme- would speed up the process of finding the boy."

"Naturally," Prowl mused. "Are we to split entirely and walk alone?"

"As ever, Prime asked us to remain with at least one other." Red Alert paused, then continued awkwardly. "I see that you have encountered some sort of dysfunction within your team, and so you are most welcome to join with us until said relationship is repaired-"

"Your choice of words is inaccurate," Prowl replied. "For a relationship to _be_ repaired, there must initially have been some sort of relationship."

Red Alert considered this. "Surely there is always a relationship- albeit could simply take any form."

"Yet it is my stance that there is _not_ one to be salvaged."

There was a slightly awkward silence as the Autobots continued their rapid walk.

"I am not entirely sure how I will find Ratchet," Red Alert mused aloud. "He claims that his scanners are working, but the rest of we 'undeveloped glitches' won't find that too useful. Apparently our sensors will be jammed upon entry to the construction."

"You will find him," Prowl assured. "You have some innate ability for-"

"Ratchet stalking?" Sunstreaker interjected rudely.

"-fact," Prowl was still speaking, "You would be a valuable asset for something I have in process-"

"B-but you don't _need_ him! You have _us_!" Sideswipe declared loudly.

Red Alert was growing increasingly uncomfortable. "If you are having difficulties-"

"What difficulties?" the tactician enquired.

Red Alert tried not to glance at the horror-struck Autobots behind Prowl. "Team-wise?"

"A matter I will be discussing with Prime."

"He wants to be rid of us!" Sideswipe wailed.

Sunstreaker wasn't able to comprehend this. "But- but I'm beautiful!"

Sideswipe abruptly noted that the second hadn't even twitched in their direction. "Prowlie- Prowlie, are you ig-ignoring us?" he asked suddenly, voice catching slightly.

There was no response.

"Confirmed!" Sunstreaker shouted, dropping to his knees- although this melodrama was instantly ruined as he sprang up again to keep up with the swift pace. "...I don't understand!"

"Prowlie, don't be this way!"

"It can't end like this-"

"It will never end! We will follow you fo-"

Prowl resumed his conversation with Red Alert. "I suppose you will be joining with Ratchet. He accompanied Prime originally on this Sam-exploration, I believe."

The medic nodded. "Presuming Ratchet does not object violently, you would be most welcome to acco-"

The twins shook with rage.

"Never! Prowlie-"

"I will be better purposed if I intend to find our continuously in peril Prime," Prowl politely declined. "Thus our objectives will clash."

"He has _us_!" Sunstreaker proclaimed.

"If I am in any need of assistance, I will call for the twins-"

There was a shout of jubilance-

"Mudflap and Skids," Prowl continued.

The rest was lost on the stunned Corvettes.

They weren't aware of much until they realised that they were no longer moving and Prowl and Red Alert were out of sight.

It wasn't so much a conscious decision. More that everything seemed to just stop working. Optics continued staring after, legs still bore them- but nothing was noticeable. Time itself became irrelevant as the twins simply existed silently, trying to understand that Prowl didn't want them anymore.

"I don't understand," Sunstreaker whispered brokenly. "The- the twins-? Mudflap and-?"

They tried to fathom this.

"But _we_ are the twins. _We_ are."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stood in their anguished befuddlement, lost to reality.

"Do- do you think he means it?" Sunstreaker suddenly asked.

"We can't know the processor of Prowlie."

"Especially not if Prowlie doesn't want us."

"But we need Prowlie," Sideswipe miserably concluded.

This didn't need justification.

"Why?" Hot Rod appeared, inexplicably and inappropriately as Hot Rods tend to do.

"What- what do you mean, why?" Sunstreaker demanded aggressively.

"_Why_ do you need Prowl? Seems to me he doesn't even like you."

"That doesn't make a difference!" the silver brother fiercely shot back.

Bumblebee abruptly charged into sight and headed for them, bright optics urgently wide. "_Keep moving on!_"

"Yeah, I _know_," Hot Rod scowled. "I'm just trying to help these two- not that they _will_ be helped. Some mechs just don't know, Bumblebee-! They just don't know a good thing when they see one! That's me! I'm the good thing," he added loudly. "**_I_** **_am_**."

"_Sometimes you just have to walk away_,"Bumblebee replied, jerking his helm in the direction of the corridor and bouncing lightly on his feet, suddenly blasting a howling man through his speakers_. "We got to go- we got to **go**!"_

"Fine, boy-lover." Hot Rod cast the yellow mech a patronising smile, then turned back to the Corvettes. "He's all distressed about his human being kidnapped. You two coming?"

"Prowlie doesn't want us," Sideswipe mumbled, almost to himself.

Bumblebee's optic ridges furrowed slightly.

"He's- he's chosen _them_ over _us_," Sunstreaker hissed miserably, involuntarily curling a lip and narrowing his optics.

_"You don't know what you got till it's gone-"_

"We _do_! You know how much we-"

"_You can't always get what you want,_" Bumblebee reminded them gently.

"But 'bee, Prowlie makes us whole," Sideswipe said sadly. "He's all we want."

"Besides a shiny paintjob," Sunstreaker absent-mindedly added. "And a nice bright colour."

Hot Rod eyed them. "Say, Bumblebee. I can just see you getting all cut up like this over me. I'll tell you now, I won't stay forever. One orn you-"

"Prowlie doesn't want us," Sunstreaker mumbled quietly.

"_We don't always want-_fst- _what we need,_" the Camaro mournfully noted, antennae and doorwings softening slightly.

"Just _stop_ it, 'bee!" the golden twin snarled and stormed away, fingers tightening into tense fists.

Sideswipe was desolate, following him automatically. "Maybe- maybe Prowlie would be happier if we just let him be."

"For the best?" Sunstreaker snorted bitterly. "Who benefits here?"

"For _Prowlie's_ best," his brother conceded.

"Then what choice do we have?"

* * *

Arcee narrowed her optics suddenly. "I sense a sudden lack of intelligence."

"Eh?"

She span, eyeing the space beside a confused Ironhide. "Your shadow disappeared."

"My-" Ironhide turned, then kept on turning. "Jetfire-? Where could he have gone?"

"He's probably been killed."

Ironhide's cannons protested furiously with a low grumble. "He's tougher than you, femme."

"That's _rubbish_ and you know it. He's useless. A pacifist is absolutely of no worth to a war."

"At least he's got the courage to be one," Ironhide snapped suddenly. "We all have our own less important agenda. He'd do what was right by the Autobots before anything else, even if it tore him apart to do it."

Arcee retorted after an astrosecond. "You know nothing about him!"

"More than you think," Ironhide disagreed. "What would you care? You just sneer at everything- it startles me that you even know his name_-_"

"If you cared at all you would have _noticed_ him disappearing!"

"So this is _my _fault!"

Arcee pointed accusingly. "He was behind _you,_ not me!"

"He was behind both of us, you glitched fool!" Ironhide roared.

"I was _busy_ leading the way," the femme justified indignantly. "_You_ were just following and sulking like a-"

I'm interrupting this now because Ironhide and Arcee will never stop: this argument won't end, dear reader.

We'll end up spending all of our time on them when we could be doing more productive things.

Let's switch to elsewhere in the Warehouse. Who shall we watch?

Ah, here we are! This looks interesting.

I espy a large room with our erstwhile Decepticons and boy inside. What are they doing, I hear you cry? We shall go closer and have a look.

Megatron was busy assaulting Sam with his optics and looming over him. "Boy, you're puny."

"I feel it," Sam replied miserably, eyes darting about the room for some place to hide.

"Ooooh," the Decepticon suddenly sighed. "The suspense is building."

"For-for what?" Upon saying this, Sam didn't think it was going to be good- so he rethought and flung himself across to Starscream. "Please help-!"

"Help you do what, fleshling?"

"Starscream can't even help himself," Megatron reminded witheringly.

Starscream scowled. "Neither can _he_."

"The boy doesn't have to. He is a mammal."

"That is _not_ a reasonable argument!" Starscream eyed him, hurt. "Then tell me- where is _he_ in the hierarchy of things?"

Megatron mused for slightly less than a split second. "Above you."

Sam felt sorry for the dejected Seeker. "I don't m-"

"Shut up, fail. Starscream, you have been... _demoted_. You are no longer my top Fail. You are Fail #2."

Sam thought this sounded quite good for the Decepticon, actually. Almost like a compliment, in some bizarre way- but Starscream's entire face fell, his optics expanding in disbelief.

"_What?_"

"You heard me," Megatron responded smugly. "I have no need of your fail services. Go back to base."

Sam slowly backed away and dove behind something reassuringly solid.

At that precise moment, Optimus burst through the door, bristling with weaponry. "Megatron!"

"...Optimus?"

"...Megatron?"

"Optimus."

"Megatron." Optimus paused. "...I see you're not torturing Sam."

"No. We were about to have a good old chat."

"I've interrupted you, I see-"

"Gatecrash," Sam wailed, peeking out from behind his solid shield. "Optimus, please gatecrash!"

Prime was horrified. "What gate? ...Boy, if you're referring to that short period when the Autobots were in your garden, I apologised. I apologise again, but I maintain that I _never_ crashed into a gate."

"See, boy? I would never ruin your garden- and if I did, I certainly wouldn't lie about it."

"OPTIMUUUUS!" Sam howled.

Something seemed to snap into the Autobot. "Megatron, hand me Sam!"

"Or what?"

"Or I get _nasty_."

"Pah," Megatron scoffed. "You think pointing your finger in someone's face is nasty."

"Depends on the nature of the pointing," Prime scowled, affronted.

"It isn't threatening at _all_, you prat-"

"I would like to test that," Optimus challenged, guns subspacing before he flexed his fingers.

"Come on, weakling!" Megatron snarled, claws twitching enthusiastically.

Prime strode forwards, then stopped abruptly a pace away from the Decepticon. "How do you like that, eh? Feel threatened yet?"

"No," Megatron snorted. "I'm taller than you. Why would I feel-"

"Height isn't everything!" Optimus snapped.

"It is when you're an evil antagonist. Name me a short villain who was _actually_ successful and feared-"

"Mojojojo?" Sam suggested, seeing Optimus frown.

"The boy is babbling again," Megatron sighed.

"Oh, I didn't say it right-" Sam hurriedly amended the error. "Mmmooo_jooooo**jojo**!_"

The Cybertronians shared a concerned glance.

"Are you done trying to be threatening?" Megatron asked. "The boy is having another fit."

"No! I _am_ threatening!" Prime maintained, giving the mech a brief and dismissive glance.

"Did you just look me up and down?" the Decepticon hissed, insulted.

"I'm even _sneering_ about it," Optimus declared nonchalantly. "See how my lip curls?"

"_Nobody_ gives _Megatron_ the up-down look!"

"You fool, I just did-! Now take _this_!" Optimus jabbed a finger at Megatron's face whilst speaking.

"Get that out of my face-!" Megatron snapped immediately, bristling.

"Or what? Or you'll feel intimidated?" Prime rumbled, corkscrewing the finger meanly.

"I am _Megatron_! Impossible! You take that grubby finger-"

"_Grubby_!" Optimus gasped-

"-out of my face before _I _give you the same treatment!"

"Never! I will not comply with your demands-!" the Autobot nobly denied, stabbing at the other's optic.

Refusing to budge, Megatron merely shuttered the optic furiously. "_Fine!"_ His right arm shot up, claws twitching ominously- after manoeuvring one dangerously close to Optimus' face, he wiggled it menacingly.

The Prime's battlemask snapped into place.

"Getting serious, I see! Feeling threatened, I see!" Megatron gleefully shouted, prodding the armour.

"I might catch a disease from your rusty digits," Optimus sniped, his own finger thrusting viciously at his brother's forehelm. "Better safe than sorry."

"Oooooh!"

Sam was finding it impossible to tear his eyes away from the sight of the two huge beings engaging in some sort of poking war.

"How do you feel about this, eh?" Prime snapped violently, wiggling all of his fingers at Megatron simultaneously.

"Why, _you_-" Megatron bit one.

Optimus winced, immediately cradling his hand. "You brute!"

"I'm sorry!" the Decepticon groaned in apologetic earnest with a sympathetic cringe. "I couldn't handle the pressure-!"

"I find you an unfit guardian for the boy!" Prime cried. "You could easily lose control and murder him!"

Megatron paused for a moment. "NEVER!" He ran suddenly, charging out of the room.

"There's no escape!" Optimus cried heroically, chasing valiantly after him down the corridors.

Left alone in the room, Sam tried to wave but it failed half-heartedly. "I'm- I'm right here? Weren't- weren't you supposed to find me?"

The fiery chase culminated as Prime rounded a corner and saw Megatron _cornered_ on a platform with no further pathway. He looked down- a scarily steep drop to what appeared to be safety netting. "Megatron! Your escape is done!"

"Never! _Never_! You underestimate my power!" the Decepticon cried, then jumped suddenly.

"No-!" Optimus reached out desperately to stop the suicide, but Megatron was suspended in midair and moving away. The Autobot glanced up- Megatron was holding onto what seemed to be _poles_.

"Monkey... bars," Sam panted, having finally caught up. "Swing- swing on them and pull yourself onto the next one-"

Megatron was struggling already. Prime flung himself after his brother in pursuit, then realised he had no idea what he had to do.

"Sam?" he asked helplessly, dangling from a rail.

"Swing!" Sam shouted. "It's all in the hands- don't forget to swing your hips, make it easier!"

"But what do you _do_?"

"You- you just use momentum to carry yourself forward! Grab onto the next bar and keep going!"

"What is the _point_?" Megatron snarled.

"There isn't much- it's just fun," Sam feebly suggested. "Fun- and muscle-building, good for your body? It proves how strong you are."

"SEE?" Megatron roared immediately- sounding slightly pressured as he clung to the bars dementedly. "See how **_strong_** I am!"

"Your claws cannot support you!" Optimus tried nobly, a leg waving through the air."Desist your venture and return here!"

"Shut up!" the Decepticon howled. "I am _fine_!"

"He _is_ right, my liege." Starscream was nodding shiftily. "Your spindly claws will not be able to sustain your mass-"

Optimus suddenly caught sight of the Seeker, who was calmly skulking around the perimeter of the room. "How-"

"There _is_ a walkway," Starscream glowered with an angered flick of his hand towards his feet. "Normal mechs would use it."

Megatron saw the opportunity. "_You_ shouldn't be on it, then."

Starscream chose to ignore this comment. "We'll see who looks the most dignified when you fall and crash down into that netting."

"Netting is _weak_!" Megatron cried. "It will never hold me down!"

"This is reinforced netting," the Seeker replied delightedly. "I have already examined it. Not only will it hold your weight, but it is _sticky_. You will be trapped."

"_Never_! I am _Megatron_!"

"You're an _idiot_," Starscream snapped. "Use your thrusters and stop fooling around."

Megatron's forehelm furrowed, then cleared slightly. "...Ahhh."

"_'Ahhh'_." Starscream echoed vehemently, highly unimpressed with the sight of the commander not making any attempt to fly.

"I see what this is," the large Decepticon began. "This is _you_ trying to prove your dominance over me. You wouldn't be able to do this, so you want me to lose the challenge!"

Optimus kicked at him. "What challenge?"

"Nobody's challenging anyone," Sam cried. "You're delusional!"

Megatron laughed dramatically. "The only delusion in this room is- oh, shut up."

"There is absolutely _no_ point to this," Starscream pleaded. "Stop this foolishness at once. How _undignified_-"

"You can hardly discuss dignity!" Megatron snapped.

"What is that supposed to mean?" the Seeker hissed, wings bristling.

"Your voice, for _one _thing," the commander grunted, swinging onto the next bar, optics brightening as he succeeded. "You sound like you're being strangled-"

Stunned, Starscream blinked. "What has that to do with anything?"

"No second in command should sound like he's being strangled!" Megatron insisted.

"_You_ promoted me, hypocrite!"

"Then stand down if you want the Decepticons to win this war," he huffed.

Starscream was dumbstruck. "My _voice_ has absolutely nothing to do with my capabilities as your second in command and you know it."

"So you're just useless all around-!" Megatron concluded, kicking Optimus. "You could blame your failings on your voice, but no- very valiant of you, claiming that it _is_ your fault-"

"I hope you _die_!" Starscream snapped. "You're so mean!"

"Your voice makes me angry!" Megatron snarled.

"That isn't _my_ fault!"

"Yes it is! If you were a good soldier who _cared_, you'd just shut up so I didn't have to hear you! Oh, I know why I promoted you now. It's so that I can hear your voice more frequently and thus become berserk-"

"I **_resign_**!" Starscream screeched hysterically. "Find yourself a new scapegoat!"

"I'm not finished being furious," Megatron shouted. "You- wait, what did you say?"

The Seeker was viciously scraping his talons across his forehelm. "I _re**sign**_!"

"What the Pit are you doing, you fool-"

"I am annulling my faction insignia, you insane, domineering _glitch-_" Starscream hissed. His hand slashed away from his face- the newly scarred symbol was instantly visible. "I hope it brings you _great _joy!"

With that, the Seeker shot into the air and blasted his way through the ceiling, disappearing within seconds.

There was silence for a moment before Optimus suddenly worked out the premise behind the monkey bars, and easily swung himself back to Sam.

"What just happened?" the human enquired.

"Just a tiff," Prime assured as Megatron burst into profusely violent bursts of Cybertronian before engaging his thrusters and flying off down another tunnel.

"This happens a lot?" Sam wavered.

"Not for me to presume," the Autobot answered. "The Decepticons are laws unto themselves."

But he had never seen anything quite so dramatic.

"You- you have something stuck on your armour," Sam helpfully pointed out, staring oddly at the Autobot's leg.

"Mmm?" Prime looked down.

"It looks like- like jelly or something."

And thus Optimus was unpleasantly reminded that somehow they still had to survive getting out of the Warehouse.

* * *

Now is the time I hope everybody remembers Mojojojo and I'm not just a crazy psycho along with the boy. You remember Mojojojo, right? Please tell me I'm not alone.

Well, this was traumatising to write.

Especially Team Three. Oh, Prowlie.

Next chapter, we'll continue struggling through the Warehouse- and maybe Optimus will have a really good idea which will fix everything! _Maybe. _Who knows?

Keep kibbling till then, everybody! C:


End file.
